No one likes finding a lump where it doesn’t belong. No one likes hearing the word “tumor” from a doctor. No one likes a encore performance of a tumor either. I am no exception.
Within less than three months of having the tumor removed, I noticed the lump had returned. Like I didn’t have enough fun the first go round. I like roller coasters–real roller coasters. I’m not much of a fan of emotional roller coasters. I have enough of those with being a parent of teenage boys with autism.
After having to fight to get my medical records from the doc who performed the first surgery, the idea of searching for a new doc was exhausting. I procrastinated. Not a good idea when dealing with a tumor. However, I just couldn’t pursue it. I was emotionally dead to it. There was so much already going on with my sons’ government agencies battling issues out, that summoning the required positive frame of mind was impossible.
Trying to explain this to people was futile. They heard “tumor”, and they expected me to move on it quickly. I got lots of advice, to look for this, that, and the other. “Good to know,” I chimed out with a smile. Nothing like extra pressure.
About the only thing I could do was ask people for referrals of a good surgeon. Over a few weeks, I gathered several names. I researched the backgrounds of the docs. I narrowed the list down to three. Then the list sat on my desk.
Last week, my mother visited me. We discussed the doctors, and she wanted to know if I had called. Unfortunately, I shook my head. My mom was not impressed. I tried to explain why, but that wasn’t going anywhere. My mom was a nurse for a gazillion years, and needed medical attention is not to be postponed when she is around.
She dialed the doctor whom she liked, and set the ground work in motion. Then she handed the phone to me. I had an appointment within 48 hours. I met the doctor. Within a few minutes of meeting him, he called in a second doc. They spoke and debated my case. I never had a second opinion so fast. Before I knew it, I was scheduled for another surgery and understood the procedures and possible scenarios.
My procrastination seemed stupid at this point. I am at peace with the forthcoming procedure. Still, I’d rather not undergo another surgery. Risks persist, no matter how good the doc and technology get.
Of course, I also think about how much I have to do to keep up with my sons. Their needs don’t stop. Even if I can’t move. Phone calls, records, therapies continue. Urg. I’m trading one roller coaster for another. Now I simply wait until I’m healed to ride a real roller coaster. Yippee!!
Photo credit:http://www.flickr.com/photos/dhedwards/
sherylscript 