A little good news always helps
I saw my oncology gynecologist yesterday, right before chemo. My oncologist is troubled by my high cancer markers and has been having me be checked up right and left....and um, down there.
I actually like my gynecologist. She and I are old friends. I met her in college. Then, she left to go to med school out west and when she came back...a newly minted gynecologist with a specialty in oncology, I began to see her for my yearly check ups. (I didn't have cancer yet and she was just starting out, so she took me onboard...)
Dr. S. It is lovely to be able to joke around with your gyno. She has always known the importance of a relaxed, calming setting for her patients and this makes the whole experience less stressful. Because even though we are friends, no one enjoys laying down with their legs in stirrups while a doctor peers up your pussy. Dr. S used to have a private practice in the mid area of the city. A few years ago, she joined a large group of oncology gynos out in the far western area of our city and I have never let her hear the end of it. But, her office is still comfy cozy. She has a fireplace in the waiting room and LOTS of current magazines and not just Country Living, Parents, or Good Housekeeping. She has Mother Jones and Herbs. When you are led to a private room, there is a lovely leather bench to sit on while you get naked and her gowns are roomy and full of softness.
It makes a difference.
So, I sat waiting for her on that soft leather bench yesterday. She came in ON TIME. She is NEVER late and if she is, she sends her nurse in to give you updates on how long it will be. Another perk.
She came in, I stood up and we hugged. I'm not sure if she does this with all of her patients, probably not...but as I said, we are old friends.
Thus, our conversation was pretty frank and lovely.
Dr. S: Okay, saddle up, girl. Let's take a look into the cave.
ME: Okey Dokie. Hey, I really miss your old office. Sell out.....
Dr. S laughs as she has for the last two years.
Dr. S: Hey, baby needed new shoes and this place is just as nice. You are just chintzy about driving a little farther.
ME: Your baby is 15. And I get the willies when I drive this far out west. Too many Trumpers with money. Nothing like idiots who think Fox is the boss.
Dr. S: I didn't mean THAT baby. I meant ME. I need new shoes. You know how we love our Ferragamos. And I am not allowed to talk politics here. Let's go get a drink sometime and share our disdain for those idiots.
Me: I haven't worn Ferragamos in years. Now I am into whatever keeps me upright. So.....anything interesting in there?
Dr. S: Everything looks good, girl. VERY dry. But good. Hey, when was the last time this cave saw some moisture? Are you still sexually active?
Me: Well, to be honest....I'm more interested in sleeping these days.
Dr. S: Gotcha. I'm going to give you some cream just in case you feel the need again. I took a swab for infection. I'll call you with results this afternoon. Ok?
While I got dressed, Dr. S went to get me some cream. When she came back, I checked my watch and told her that I had to book because I had chemo in an hour.
Dr. S: What is your chemo these days?
Me: Doxil.
She and I share a long look. She sighs and pulls me in for a long hug. She says over my shoulder, "Doxil. The red devil. The red death. Oh, honey."
I feel the tears starting in my eyes and take a deep breath to hold them back.
I pull back and shakily smile. Tell her that I am doing my best, but that yes....it has been hellish. She has tears in her eyes and I can't stand it so I hug her again. We stand for a moment while we both collect ourselves. When we pull away, we are both composed.
She asks me how T is doing. I say fine. I ask her how her kids are. She says ok. That her youngest, who is handicapped, is enjoying school this year, has made some friends. Her older daughter, now in college is still a little bitch, but she is getting better now that they aren't in the same house.
Dr. S: She likes me better now. I like her better. It is getting better.
I don't ask about her ex-husband. He is, and always was a turd. I TOLD her so years ago.
We say goodbye and I tell her that I'll see her next year or sooner if I have a problem. She looks me fiercely in the eye and says, "YES, let's plan on that!"
When she quietly shuts the door, I collect my purse and cane and sit for just a second and then slowly get up and leave.
A few hours later, Dr. S's nurse calls to tell me that the swab test was normal. I am fine down there.
I remember the tube of cream in my purse and carefully put it away in the bathroom shelf.
Maybe one day sleep will not be so important. You never know.
I actually like my gynecologist. She and I are old friends. I met her in college. Then, she left to go to med school out west and when she came back...a newly minted gynecologist with a specialty in oncology, I began to see her for my yearly check ups. (I didn't have cancer yet and she was just starting out, so she took me onboard...)
Dr. S. It is lovely to be able to joke around with your gyno. She has always known the importance of a relaxed, calming setting for her patients and this makes the whole experience less stressful. Because even though we are friends, no one enjoys laying down with their legs in stirrups while a doctor peers up your pussy. Dr. S used to have a private practice in the mid area of the city. A few years ago, she joined a large group of oncology gynos out in the far western area of our city and I have never let her hear the end of it. But, her office is still comfy cozy. She has a fireplace in the waiting room and LOTS of current magazines and not just Country Living, Parents, or Good Housekeeping. She has Mother Jones and Herbs. When you are led to a private room, there is a lovely leather bench to sit on while you get naked and her gowns are roomy and full of softness.
It makes a difference.
So, I sat waiting for her on that soft leather bench yesterday. She came in ON TIME. She is NEVER late and if she is, she sends her nurse in to give you updates on how long it will be. Another perk.
She came in, I stood up and we hugged. I'm not sure if she does this with all of her patients, probably not...but as I said, we are old friends.
Thus, our conversation was pretty frank and lovely.
Dr. S: Okay, saddle up, girl. Let's take a look into the cave.
ME: Okey Dokie. Hey, I really miss your old office. Sell out.....
Dr. S laughs as she has for the last two years.
Dr. S: Hey, baby needed new shoes and this place is just as nice. You are just chintzy about driving a little farther.
ME: Your baby is 15. And I get the willies when I drive this far out west. Too many Trumpers with money. Nothing like idiots who think Fox is the boss.
Dr. S: I didn't mean THAT baby. I meant ME. I need new shoes. You know how we love our Ferragamos. And I am not allowed to talk politics here. Let's go get a drink sometime and share our disdain for those idiots.
Me: I haven't worn Ferragamos in years. Now I am into whatever keeps me upright. So.....anything interesting in there?
Dr. S: Everything looks good, girl. VERY dry. But good. Hey, when was the last time this cave saw some moisture? Are you still sexually active?
Me: Well, to be honest....I'm more interested in sleeping these days.
Dr. S: Gotcha. I'm going to give you some cream just in case you feel the need again. I took a swab for infection. I'll call you with results this afternoon. Ok?
While I got dressed, Dr. S went to get me some cream. When she came back, I checked my watch and told her that I had to book because I had chemo in an hour.
Dr. S: What is your chemo these days?
Me: Doxil.
She and I share a long look. She sighs and pulls me in for a long hug. She says over my shoulder, "Doxil. The red devil. The red death. Oh, honey."
I feel the tears starting in my eyes and take a deep breath to hold them back.
I pull back and shakily smile. Tell her that I am doing my best, but that yes....it has been hellish. She has tears in her eyes and I can't stand it so I hug her again. We stand for a moment while we both collect ourselves. When we pull away, we are both composed.
She asks me how T is doing. I say fine. I ask her how her kids are. She says ok. That her youngest, who is handicapped, is enjoying school this year, has made some friends. Her older daughter, now in college is still a little bitch, but she is getting better now that they aren't in the same house.
Dr. S: She likes me better now. I like her better. It is getting better.
I don't ask about her ex-husband. He is, and always was a turd. I TOLD her so years ago.
We say goodbye and I tell her that I'll see her next year or sooner if I have a problem. She looks me fiercely in the eye and says, "YES, let's plan on that!"
When she quietly shuts the door, I collect my purse and cane and sit for just a second and then slowly get up and leave.
A few hours later, Dr. S's nurse calls to tell me that the swab test was normal. I am fine down there.
I remember the tube of cream in my purse and carefully put it away in the bathroom shelf.
Maybe one day sleep will not be so important. You never know.
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