MY oncologist. It came as a shock to think that I would need an oncologist of my own. At that point my stable of medical professionals only included my primary care doctor, my dentist and my ophthalmologist. Yet here I was, admitted to the hospital, stripped down to my shorts and T-shirt, lying in a hospital bed and talking to MY oncologist.
Soon I would have all kinds of other new experiences. The next day I would have my first bone marrow biopsy (BMB) and then my first CT scan. Soon I would be looking for the first time at my complete blood count (CBC) and learning what all the different abbreviations mean.
My oncologist, Dr. T, is a kind and competent hematologist/oncologist who is highly regarded in our community. At our first meeting she tried to put my mind at ease by suggesting that I might have chronic myeloid leukemia which is now well controlled with a daily pill.
On that Saturday when I was trying to walk off the pain in my hip from the BMB she told me that it had been a "dry tap" in which she couldn't get any aspirate to come up the needle. She had to poke me three or four times. Since I was completely naive about BMBs I asked, "Is that good or bad?" She said, "It is medium." She might have already guessed my diagnosis, but she wasn't going to go there without having the test results in, so she tried to give me hope without giving me too much false hope.
As a new patient you find yourself struggling up a steep learning curve. Doctors and technicians only give you limited information and you don't even know what questions you should be asking. But remember that the doctors and medical technicians are on your side. They want to give you hope, even when they know you are facing bad news.
I walked up and down the hall enough times that I finally drove the nurses crazy and they pushed to get me released early Saturday afternoon. Because my white blood cells were so high, they figured that my immune system might be compromised. Consequently they gave me a full course of childhood immunizations, flu shot and pneumonia shot before they let me go - including a MMR in my right tricep that made my arm swell up and hurt with a fever of its own.
I was wounded, but I was free again and I prepared to preach on Sunday morning.
Soon I would have all kinds of other new experiences. The next day I would have my first bone marrow biopsy (BMB) and then my first CT scan. Soon I would be looking for the first time at my complete blood count (CBC) and learning what all the different abbreviations mean.
My oncologist, Dr. T, is a kind and competent hematologist/oncologist who is highly regarded in our community. At our first meeting she tried to put my mind at ease by suggesting that I might have chronic myeloid leukemia which is now well controlled with a daily pill.
On that Saturday when I was trying to walk off the pain in my hip from the BMB she told me that it had been a "dry tap" in which she couldn't get any aspirate to come up the needle. She had to poke me three or four times. Since I was completely naive about BMBs I asked, "Is that good or bad?" She said, "It is medium." She might have already guessed my diagnosis, but she wasn't going to go there without having the test results in, so she tried to give me hope without giving me too much false hope.
As a new patient you find yourself struggling up a steep learning curve. Doctors and technicians only give you limited information and you don't even know what questions you should be asking. But remember that the doctors and medical technicians are on your side. They want to give you hope, even when they know you are facing bad news.
I walked up and down the hall enough times that I finally drove the nurses crazy and they pushed to get me released early Saturday afternoon. Because my white blood cells were so high, they figured that my immune system might be compromised. Consequently they gave me a full course of childhood immunizations, flu shot and pneumonia shot before they let me go - including a MMR in my right tricep that made my arm swell up and hurt with a fever of its own.
I was wounded, but I was free again and I prepared to preach on Sunday morning.
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