Thursday, 12 February 2009

BLOG ON BREASTS FUBAR

This is R rating for some nasty language, so read or not accordingly.

Yesterday after the radiologist at Methodist gets her hands- her name is Dr. Jessica Sheets, but lots of luck finding that anywhere online where you can check without paying for it and then not much data is available, (after MUCH prodding and many phone calls from J), on the film from MA (that took almost a bloody month to arrive) and said, “Well you know I think it’s fine, but with the new digital film and nothing to compare that to (because they weren’t DOING digital mammograms in 2005 you boob!) I won’t say for certain that everything is normal. She needs to have the breasts MRI. This people, is AFTER it has been explained to her that the MRI has to be a last ditch, only if needed to confirm I need surgery to confirm or cut out any growth – cancerous or fibrous.

This was my internal dialogue: “…and then on 10 February you read the fucking film and say, oh I just don’t know anything for certain so she should have the MRI? You have been saying for a month all you needed was the film from 2005 to compare; if you knew then you would want an MRI why didn’t you say so then? They didn’t even begin doing MRIs for this until ****. And have YOU ever had an MRI? Do you have claustrophobia? Did you ONCE ask if the patient, me, does?

I want someone else to review these films, and after all this delay – I want it done today. The MRI you so blithely suggest to a person who is traumatically claustrophobic is not possible without real mental pain because I would have to do it without sedation – would you like to know the really horrid things done to me as a child, or perhaps you would prefer the more recent decades where there were other bad things I'm not going to mention happened – these events left me with a healthy fear of trapped spaces. Sedation won’t work on me because you can’t put me deep enough to safely monitor my respiratory status, and I metabolize drugs at the same rate your fucking Aunt Emma metabolises her tea. Can you see why this is a problem? At all? Did you ask? Once? Compassion anyone or just legal safety?

So I suggest we come up with another alternative. If it’s bad enough to fucking MRI, then why is it not bad enough to biopsy? Make a decision.”

After having this conversation with myself I had a nice cup of tea and decided that I am going over there today and pick up all my films and records – because when I requested VERY NICELY that another one of their radiologist give a second opinion – a second opinion people – something one should get if anyone wants to give you medication, or come at you with a knife, or say you are well or not, and you have that uneasy feeling! A bloody second opinion, Dr. Sheets, I was NOT saying you don’t know what you are doing; I was not impugning your honour nor your ability. Reading films is NOT an exact science. I KNOW that, and hence the request for a second opinion.

You would have thought I had informed the woman my lawyer (a word that strikes fear in the medical community here worse than the imminent threat of Ebola apparently) was going to be paying her a call. “No, none of our other doctors will read your films. You can pick them up at the desk on the seventh floor.”

Well thank you very much for putting me through a month of fear.

I decided to write about all this for four reasons – my wrist is injured and I can’t hit the bag at the gym, and I hope it reminds anyone out there who needs it to go get their mammogram done – and that the medical community needs to ALWAYS BE QUESTIONED. The Lazarus complex is done people, over, caput – heard of the Internet? Doctors are no longer considered all knowing, patient are responsible for being informed about their condition, and DOCTORS ARE REQUIRED TO LISTEN. And so that I don't have to call all my family and friends each time this thing has gone FUBAR.

Now, MY decision which would not be right for everyone, is that after having read the reports (yes I have some medical background I don’t think we’ve covered that) I am going to pick up my data, bring it home; have my thyroid biopsy today, and have a repeat of the mammogram in three months – when they will have LOTS of films to compare. I feel safe in doing this and J agrees. I am going to talk with my GYN in whom I have a lot of faith, and she’s soooo very calm – I love that.

And there I stand. I must go now and prepare for this joyful experience of having someone I don’t know stick a six-foot long needle in my neck and bounce it about. No? Let’s hear what it looks like to YOU if you are the one lying there ☺

Then, if I don’t have thyroid cancer, and let us hope they there is a fast definitive diagnosis or really, J is going to be posting bail; I can spend the weekend enjoying Valentines’ Day and getting ready for my “fun surgery” which was the point.

Thank you for listening lovely readers, and I do have that cheery post coming – I promise.

Ciao

4 comments:

Annie said...

OH NO! I can't believe this - it's nonsense!

In my case - I think the 'experts' were all too quick to have me undergo a biopsy - they really sorta pushed me into it - and from a basis of fear - I agreed. I do however have peace of mind.

I can't believe they won't just biopsy it if they fear any sinister substance at all?!

Sending you positive thoughts for today's procedure.

Take care.

Mama Zen said...

I totally, totally, TOTALLY know where you're coming from on this. I'm going through something somewhat similar myself.

Did you look into an open MRI?

Sparx said...

Holy cow. Oh I am so so sorry.

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