Monday, March 12, 2012

Vodka with Cracked Pepper

B"H,

To Speak For Oneself


He was two years old and we were at the pediatric clinic for his well child check-up.  Nurse Joy reached out for my baby boy and he for her.  Everyone was all smiles and giggles.  The few preliminaries done, it was time for the doctor.  Out walked Nurse Joy with waves and flying kisses, in walks the pediatrician with the stillness of a thoughtful leader which she was.  Doctor Mann was the chairman of pediatrics in the medical school, for this was a teaching hospital's clinic.  She reviewed the nurse's notes with me and proceeded to ask me questions about my little guy.  It was a small exam room, I suppose for the small people, so the doctor could stand between me and my baby boy who was sitting quietly on the exam bench while we were both next to him.  Isaac tapped Dr. Mann on the shoulder, "Isaac is here," he said.  She stopped looking at me as she stopped talking with me.  She turned to look at my baby, "Oh, should I be asking you these questions?" she said moving her reading glasses to the tip of her nose while getting a better look at this tiny guy.  All business now my son said, "yes," as manly as a two year old could muster.  The interview and exam continued, now between the doctor and the baby.  I sat there watching and listening to my son conduct himself with purpose and responsibility while looking at his toes.  He just would not look at the doctor after the initial "yes".  Dr. Mann was all business and so was Isaac as they approached the final question, "Are you a happy baby?"  With a sober face and eyes firmly gazing still at his toes the answer was, "yes".  Dr. Mann turned to me, "you have a happy child" she said with a smile and a laugh. 

 
It is important, they say, the proverbial "they" who always gives significant advice, to conduct your doctor appointments.  Leave no issue untouched, leave no concern unmentioned, leave no question unasked... BE IN CHARGE.  That was certainly not my approach  when I was diagnosed with breast cancer.  My questions were few.  I simply felt relief that I was not crazy.  For the past few years I had had a sensation of something being wrong.  All the doctors I saw basically told me the same thing... "you are a healthy middle aged woman, quit your kvetching (complaining)."    And now, here was a doctor who told me that there was a problem.  I was all ears.   That was years ago.  I am still in active treatment plans and I still listen to my doctors.  These days they say that they see breast cancer treatment becoming akin to that of diabetes... meaning that if there is no magic bullet like penicillin was when it came on the scene -- where you had a problem, you took the penicillin, the problem went away, and you stopped taking the penicillin -- then at least there can be management of the disease.  So, it is easy to understand that I see my doctors frequently.  My husband is a physician also.  I know the type.  Therefore I always bring some food for my doctor.  Over the years my medical oncologist has become more than just "professionally friendly" he has become a family friend who wants to hit a home run for me.  When my husband joins me at an appointment, the two doctors do their doctor-speak and leave me in the dust.  The proverbial they would demand that my doctor speak to me directly in terms that I understand but I'll be honest with you.  Sometimes I just can't focus in the appointment.  I can get more real information out of my appointment when my husband and my doctor speak their jargon.  I just get informed of all the details at home after dinner.  It works better this way for everyone.  If my husband cannot attend my appointments I can always ask a nurse to join me and she will explain a second time what flies by me the first time.
 
Lately, I haven't needed my husband or my nurse to attend every appointment with me.  I suppose that I am becoming something of a professional... more grounded, more experienced with the language, more receptive to the topic.  Thank G-d, thank G-d, I am holding my own through the ups and downs and all-arounds of being a cancer patient-survivor-thriver with a 100% performance status!  My appointments these days are atypical.  After my exam, we talked about my doctor's troubles... he needs a root canal surgery in his mouth to get rid of infection so that he can get his back fixed and stop looking like and feeling like Quasimodo.  Life is difficult and next week he is off and intends to sit on his back porch with his vodka and cracked pepper.  My poor doctor is falling apart.  We patients know to pray for ourselves as we pray for others in our circumstances.  But, who knew that our doctors, too, could need our heartfelt prayers for G_d's holy blessings of healing, renewed health, and continued wellness so that all may continue to serve Him ever more, ever better, always bearing witness, always.
 
Help the one who helps.
Comfort the one who comforts.
Feed the one who needs to eat. 
May G_d heal us all.

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