Three months ago, around the time that I started this blog, my dog Amber needed to have surgery to repair a torn cruciate ligament (the one that goes across the knee) on her right leg. (Amber had had this surgery on her left leg just 15 months before, so we knew what to expect this time). Today, Amber went in to the orthopedist for her last check-up and was pronounced healed enough to now be able to play with her doggie friends at the park. Yeah!
Since dogs, like people only have two knees and since Amber has now had both knees repaired, I figured that we are D.O.N.E. with this doctor. As I was thanking the Doctor who performed the surgery, I told both the doctor and the office staff, that while I appreciate all that they had done for my dog, I hope that I never see any of them again. This earned quite a chuckle.
This brought me back to a similar conversation that I had 16 years ago. Only that conversation was not between me and a orthopedic vet, that conversation was between me and an oncologist. Sixteen years ago, I was told that I had ovarian cancer (my CA-125, the marker for ovarian cancer was over 1,000 (one thousand)....that is bad...very, very, bad). I had a huge abdominal mass, and I was told that they were unable to see my left ovary on an MRI or CAT Scan or whatever tests they used at the time.
I was scheduled for surgery and was referred to a gynecological oncologist. Doctor L. was a really nice man and we had a long conversation. Doctor L. took his time answering my questions, and I felt very comfortable with him as a person. As we got off the phone, I remember saying to Dr L. "I've enjoyed talking to you, and I'm sure that you're a wonderful oncologist and a very nice man but I hope that after the surgery, I never see you again... he said that he hoped the same thing. Fortunately the 3 1/2 pound mass that was removed from my abdomen was NOT cancer.
I haven't thought about Dr L. or that time in my life for a very long time. There's been no need to revisit the horror of those two weeks between diagnosis and the actual surgery. And yet, here I am, sixteen years later having a conversation with my dog's vet, and the memory was triggered...isn't that weird?
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9 comments:
Can it really be 16 years? I too remember that time particularly the long hours in the hospital waiting room during your surgery. I also remember being utterly and maybe foolishly optomistic that the doctors were wrong and that everything would turn out just fine. I'm certainly glad I turned out to be psychic and right!
Three-and-a-half pounds ! Indeed this is cause for celebration. I'm very glad that things worked out well for both you and Amber. I like beginning the day by reading two stories with happy conclusions. Especially one that includes the c-word.
Wow, I am glad everything worked out for you Lynn.
It must have been a frightening time for you.
That is indeed cause for celebration. Cancer is so scary.
I'm very glad that you won't have to visit either of those doctors again.
WOOPS - Ralph is actually me
I was accidentally on his profile
;-)
You probably wish you could forget those two weeks all together. That's a huge growth. Glad it all worked out as Joan predicted it would.
I don't think it's bad to be reminded. It tends to keep things in perpective. It must have been a terrifying ordeal for those two weeks.
Joan - I remember the doctors thought that I was in major denial, because I didn't think that I was going to die.
Patches - The mass was so unusual, my doctor wrote about it in a medical journal. So while I'm not famous...my mass certainly is.
Patti - It started out terrifying. Because the doctors thought that my "cancer" was so advanced, they let the surgery wait until my new medical insurance kicked in...by the time the surgery came around...I wasn't so frightened anymore...
Renee - Now instead of paying off the vets bill, I can start to save for the kids college.
Meno - Actually, those two weeks with all the terror and fear that both my hubby and I experienced, brought us very close together. Even now, sixteen years later, no matter how angry we get at each other...we both know how much we mean to each other. The fear of one of us dying showed us the true depth of our love for each other.
Egan - It was a terrifying ordeal, but towards the end, right before the surgery, there was a sense of peace...just knowing that everything was going to be alright...no matter what happened. It is not an experience that I would want to go through again, but both hubby and I grew from it.
I read your comment to Meno and really like what you said. It's important to keep things in check and it appears that happened. Your love intensified which is so wonderful.
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