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.
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