Wednesday, August 10, 2011

An outdated conversation with my doctor

At my appointment, the good doc came in, and first things first:

"Rosanne. You are my worst nightmare."

"Well, Doc. You're mine!"

He explained the situation, which is basically that the tumor I have is a ghost and that they were pretty much doing the surgery blind. They cut out where they think it was - basically a quarter of my uterus, so they figured they had a 25% either way of getting it right!

But it wasn't all right, and when he came back for my lab results, they weren't good.

I yelled "Shit!" when he said my HCG levels went up, and I guess he's used to anger 'cause he wasn't fazed; he just kept right on talking! I guess you have to be used to anger in the oncology ward.

He told me he knew I was religious because of the school I had attended (that's a little stereotypical, Doc), so he told me that, while he wasn't a pray-er (one who prays, not the noun. Or one who preys), he gave me full
permission to do so this week if I wanted to. So I told him, "I know you're not a praying man, but if you want to be this week, that's ok." I see no reason why I shouldn't be a complete exception to his....entire way of living. Wait.

He told me he had called one Dr. S, the nation's leading specialist on gestational diseases. So I casually mentioned that if it wasn't for me, he wouldn't be learning so much. You're welcome. (I also say that to him on a regular basis, usually without being thanked).

"Doctor, if you get rich off this, I want a slice."

"How am I going to get rich off this?"

"Like I know!" I said. "But if I end up being the only person with it, and you find some cure or something, that's all I'm sayin'."

They haven't found someone else yet, so things are lookin' good!


  1. You are amazing. I love your perspective, your honesty and your openness. You are helping so many people you don't even know. I wish I had a magic wand to wave over you. xoxo