The good news ... my shoulder works again. You never really realize how much discomfort tendonitis can cause until you're in the middle of the irritation. Also, my arm surgeon rocks (just don't ask him to "raise the roof" and say "pretty fly for a white guy" at the same time). It took a few days for the steroid shot to kick in, but, when it did, life was good.
A tale of good doc / almost-bad doc (whose names are being excluded to protect the innocent)
The Good Doc - He's had the questionable honor of operating on my right wrist/elbow in Jan 2010 and forearm in Dec 2010. He is the one who performed the procedure that removed part of the tumor which was eventually determined to be cancerous. His office made the arrangements for the CT scan and the referral to the Cancer Center (they called me and said you have an appointment @ with ... show up!). He's also offered to speak with any of the other surgeons/physicians that I have been working with for my treatments. He is flexible enough to make a decision and/or see the wisdom of others peoples expertise or to make the referral to someone else. I have no idea if the surgeon making a referral to another surgeon is the norm, but, it makes me feel better in the quest for the best care possible. My surgeon here spoke with a Dr. (she) at some conference in February about me and the other Dr. had cared for a patient with the same ailment as myself. After he spoke with her, he called me and told me of the conversation and that she is the one who has worked on a similar case, saying it would be prudent to consult with her prior to starting treatment locally. I didn't have to express my distaste with his expertise for him to make this suggestion.
The Almost-Bad Doc - On the other hand (in my case, the left one) my chemical oncologist was disappointing at our first meeting. He had no familiarity with my case and didn't seem to have read my file prior to meeting with us. Dave and I described it as "phoning it in," and my mother loved it. The initial experience with this Dr's office less than pleasant. There was a lack of communication (canceling an appointment without telling me), not being sure of which test to schedule (after talking with my radiological oncologist), and what seemed to be a general lack of specific initiative. At one of my appointments, Dave gave this Dr. an earful about the lack of communication. I think this was the appointment when we were offered the opportunity to have my case evaluated at the Sarcoma Center at UCLA.
The other good Doc - my radiological oncologist. Upon our first visit, he seemed like he'd read the file, listened to what we had to say, called my arm surgeon and talked about upcoming treatment (I had been scheduled for surgery a few days later, which was cancelled after the two talked). As a bonus, his nurse is awesome. I called her after my appointment had been cancelled by the other Dr. and she straightened things out and wanted me to call her with what's going on.
The Doctor at UCLA - took no prisoners, asked questions, questioned the methodology of my arm surgeon (but, I knew why he chose to act as he did), tried to explain how chemotherapy works to my mother (Dave, Mike and I had all tried at various opportunities), scheduled surgery and I had tests done that day. A few days later he'd reviewed the file and made his recommendations. While adding, it looked good for me to be able to keep the arm (I did a happy dance with that pronouncement, but, I still get scared at the thought of what could happen). My treatment in Las Vegas followed his recommendations.
So, what is the point of these tales of conflicting medical styles? The point is, my medical treatment has been much like a ship with no Captain. Unless you count Dave or I or my "Pretty fly for a white guy" arm surgeon. If Dave or I had no knowledge of my type of cancer and the ability to make decisions, we would be lost in the system and wandering aimlessly.
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