Not having a family doctor
is really not good. In January of last
year our doctor closed her practice. She
wasn’t retiring or even moving, just not going to do patients any more. Our local clinic where she had worked,
despite having a lot of doctors, did not distribute her patients. We were medical orphans. They declined to have a waiting list and
indicated they would assign patients to new doctors based on priority need. So here I sit about 18 months later, having
survived cancer once, with thyroid issues, diabetes, and high blood pressure,
but apparently I’m not “high need” enough.
Since I don’t have a
family doctor, I have to navigate the medical system myself, through the
emergency room. Need prescription
refills? Go to the ER and wait several
hours to see a doctor who will write the refill order. Does the doctor do anything to check my thyroid
or diabetes, or even blood pressure to ensure I’m getting the right treatment? Nope.
Fortunately, I was able to get accepted as a patient by the diabetes
nurse practitioner, but her practice is limited to diabetes. At least I was getting regular blood work
done and being monitored for what she could monitor. For all else…yes, back to the ER.
In April I went to
the ER because I’d been having abdominal pain that wasn’t going away. Because it was persistent, I realized it was
more than possibly gas. Sitting or
standing for any length of time became unbearable.
So off I went, for a
7½ hour wait. Unfortunately for me,
there was a very social woman in the waiting room. Because the room was packed, I ended up
sitting across from her. I swear I have
a sign or a tattoo on my forehead that says, “talk to me and tell me your life
story” because in short order she introduced herself and proceeded to tell me
everything. I didn’t even want to know
her name, and in fact had my book in my hand and my reading glasses on. It didn’t matter. In short order she showed me her wedding
photos (from ten years before), and told me all about the wedding and how her
two brothers stood up for her. I learned
her husband served in Afghanistan and that very soon they would be adopting an
older girl. The woman had colostomy
surgery the previous month and was there to have it checked. At this point she
showed me the cover she sewed herself for the baggie she has to wear. I had to admire the Disney tattoo sleeve on
her right arm and hear all about her plans for the other arm AND check out the
pictures of what she wants there. I
discovered she lived in northern Quebec as a kid and that she is now 45 to her
husband’s 38. She had been married
previously to an abusive asshole. The
story goes on and on. I was so relieved
when they called her name that I almost didn’t mind another few hours waiting
for my turn. I didn’t want to be rude (I’m
too polite at times), but I did try several times to put my head down and start
reading. She just wouldn’t be
ignored. I have no idea why me and not
someone else in the room.
Finally, I was
called in and I could have cried with frustration. The doctor basically blew me off. He asked where the pain was. I told him I could feel something inside and
I put his hand on the lump I felt. He
proceeded to press so hard I was almost off the table in pain. He felt all around, on both sides, and then
told me it was probably gas. I assured
him it wasn’t. When he asked why I was
there, I told him “because this hospital has all the good diagnostic equipment”
and asked him to use some of it. Instead,
he told me he was referring me to a gastroenterologist. (And here I am three months later having not
heard anything about a referral appointment yet!)
A week later I went
back. This time the doctor was a lot
more proactive. She immediately sent me
for an ultrasound, and when the results were available, she ordered a CT scan. The scan was set for a few days later and I would
have to go back to the ER two days afterward to get the results. More waiting, but at least it felt like
something was being done. On my return
to the ER a couple of days after the CT scan, I was told something was definitely
there, about the size of slightly larger than a golf ball. This doctor referred me for a biopsy. And so, a few days later again I had the
biopsy.
This biopsy was
easily the most painful thing I’ve ever had done to me. It laid me flat for a week. I mean I was up and about within a day of
having foot reconstruction, an emergency c-section, and even a hysterectomy. I was told the results would be available in
5 to 10 business days! A week later I
tried to reach out to patient records to get my results, but their voicemail
box was full and I could never reach a live person. The good news was I had an appointment with
my diabetic nurse practitioner and when I brought her up to date on what had
been going on, she called the doctor that performed the biopsy and got the
results directly from him. The bottom fell
away when she turned around and told me my cancer had returned.
If there was any
good news in this, she also informed me that the biopsy doctor was going to
refer me to a specialist in one of the major cities that is 3 hours drive away
from us. This referral happened
relatively quickly and about two weeks later I sat in the specialist’s exam
room. A broader CT scan is scheduled to
take place in about two weeks from today, but at this point she believes that I
will need surgery to remove a section of my abdominal muscle, followed by a
radiation series. The good news, at this
point, is they don’t believe it’s in any of my organs. The CT scan can hopefully confirm this.
It is appalling that
I had to push so hard to obtain vital services.
A family doctor would have been able to get the process going so much
faster. I remember when I broke my foot,
my family doctor (who has long since retired) got me CT scanned fast. He got
the results within an hour of the scan, and referred me to a specialist ASAP. I
had surgery less than three weeks later.
Listen to your
body. You know it best. When someone in the medical field blows you off,
but you know something is wrong, keep at it until you find someone to listen
and take you seriously.
