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My Doctor Told Me I Was Charting The Unknown
How being a bitch may be saving my life
I saw my oncologist last week. When I meet with her, normally my sister goes with me to take notes and for mutual emotional support if needed, but that day the doctor wanted to see me way too early for sis to deal with, so my boyfriend took me. Which is not a complaint. Sis sacrifices a lot for me and is much appreciated. It’s better for both of us to not wake her up at dawn!
Plus I think this was good for the boyfriend. Men like to feel needed. In my case, since I’m dealing with metastatic brain, lung, and liver cancer, I need all the help I can get!
Anyway, one thing my oncologist told me — I am charting unknown territory. I looked at her in confusion. She clarified a bit by saying she wants me to call if anything out of the ordinary happens as they want to catch things early. I was still a little confused but my boyfriend filled in the blanks.
My surgeon and oncologists had forecast I would be dead within 6 months. Certainly, after 3 months I was supposed to be on hospice. They signed me up for palliative care when they discharged me from surgery. They were anticipating at this point I’d be in a cot in my living room with a morphine drip and a bedpan — at least this was what the nurse told me when I insisted on brutal…
