A tale of two doctors

It was the best of times, it was the worst of times... Today was another day of doctor's appointments for me. First I saw my boob man in the morning, and then the butcher in the evening. It was an interesting contrast, not just in the kind of work that they do, but also in the way in which they relate to their patients. So today's entry is going to be a brief tale of two doctors. 

Dr. K, the boob man, met me promptly inbetween surgeries to remove the stitches from my implant revision. When he entered the exam room, he not only smiled, but asked "How are you feeling today?" I told him I was feeling pretty good and that I made it through the first round of chemo while suffering only tolerably mild side effects. He seemed glad to hear it and made polite conversation for a bit, giving off the vibe that he really cared. Then he asked to see my boob to evaluate the healing process. The exam room was set up with a sterile set of scissors and tools, and he proceeded to examine the incision and removed the stitches.

When he spotted the chemo port scar on my right shoulder and noticed a scab and a tad of redness, he looked a bit worried and immediately proceeded to examine that scar, picking out a stitch that was poking through. When I informed him that I would see the butcher later that day, he seemed reassured and said he would leave the other stitch for Dr. R to examine. DH, who accompanied me on my doctors' outings, couldn't help but jokingly remark that Dr. K would probably have managed to squeeze a whole new boob through the incision Dr. R needed for that tiny chemo port. This brought about a broad grin from Dr. K together with a "probably..."

Afterwards Dr. K took some time to answer all my questions about the muscle tightness I have been experiencing in the pecs, and about beginning exercise again. He even went so far as to tell me to not do flyes and bench presses, and to specify how heavy my weights may be. Then he inquired about my next to chemo rounds and asked me to come back for a refill two days before my July 2 poisoning date. Then he bade us goodbye and left.

In contrast, the afternoon appointment with the butcher was a bit different. Dr. R met me promptly right at the assigned time. He greeted me with a handshake, and asked "How are you?" without really waiting for an answer nor waiting to hear one. When I told him I made it through my first round of chemo, his immediate followup question was "Oh, so did the chemo port work?" Granted, I was there for a post-surgical follow-up after the chemo port insertion, but don't you think I would have lead with "That chemo port of yours didn't work" if that had been the case? Anyway, Dr. R never inquired how I did with the chemo or anything.

Then Dr. R immediately proceeded to examine the chemo port scar -- with one single glance while standing high above me. He deemed it fine, told me to come back in four months, and turned to leave. The whole interaction had lasted barely 30 seconds and he was almost gone!

I, however, being inquisitive, had a few questions for Dr. R first. First of all, the chemo port had been bugging me since Dr. R put it exactly where the top of my bra and the straps run. This makes for some uncomfortable chafing at time. Secondly, the scar has scabs (unlike any of my other surgical scars -- which were all done by Dr. K) and still had a few stitches sticking out. So I asked him to remove those, to which Dr. R replied "But they'll dissolve eventually..." Well, eventually isn't good enough for me, so I told him that the thing is in the way of my bra and chafes (which is something I had previously been worried about, asked him about, and been reassured that he had "never received a complaint" -- I complained today, but I doubt he got the message...). Thus forced to take out the stitches, Dr. R headed into the hallway and yelled for a nurse to bring him some scissors, as none were set up in the exam room. When those arrived he took out the remaining stitch. In response to my complaints about the port pulling and being generally in the way of my movement, he said "You know, it's kind of like when you get a cavity filled and at first your tongue thinks there is a new thing there. But you get used to it after a while." That was the entire explanation. He then gave me a reassuring smile, shook my hand while reminding me to reappear in four months, and fled.

It was a really interesting contrast to me. So much about my cancer experience thus far has been an absolute loss of control over what happens to my body. I have been forced to undergo several invasive surgeries that have left indelible marks upon my body. I am in the process of undergoing a therapeutic poison regimen that is putting the aging process within my body on fast forward. In other words, being a cancer patient is much more about the cancer in so many ways than it is about ME, i.e. the human being that these doctors are supposed to be freeing from cancer while leaving it in serviceable enough condition that is as close as possible to my pre-cancer condition.

I felt happy after my visit with Dr. K because he made me feel like he cared about me as a human being. I felt not so happy after my visit with Dr. R because he made me feel like I'm just another cancer case, not an individual human being. Now, I fully understand that doctors cannot and should not get attached to patients in too personal a way. They, too, need distance both for their own sanity, and in order to make the best objective medical decisions. Nonetheless, I think this clinical distance can and should not get in the way of seeing and treating your patients as individual human beings. Therefore I plead to all doctors to always remember: Cancer is something that I have, not something that I AM. So for crying out loud, please make the effort to see me as an individual human being!

Things I am particularly grateful for today: that DH stayed home and accompanied me on my doctors' tour; that I had increasing energy levels and less chemo brain today; that there are wonderful doctors such as Dr. K, Dr. A, and Dr. Z my primary care physician who always look at me as an individual human worthy of their attention and compassion.