Friday, February 22, 2013

Go to Hell, I've Been There and it's Painted Federal Blue

Yesterday was the day that was supposed to ease my mind one way or the other.  The day that could potentially change my life. Instead I walked away more confused than anything.  Let me explain.

My appointment with my surgeon was at 10:15, we get there with a good 10 minutes to spare.  We pull in front of a building with a "For Sale" sign on it.  That should have been my first clue things weren't going to go well.

Anyway, we go inside and it was painted the colors of a young boys room. Federal blue and Burgundy.  Made me think it needed heavy,  dark wood furniture, toy soldiers and a choo choo train toy box somewhere.

We go to the elevator and push the button.  We are only going to the third floor but my legs felt a little wobbly and I didn't want to take the stairs.  We waited, and waited and waited.  Finally Brad suggest we take the stairs or I was going to be late.  I agree.  Big mistake.  It's like Monday night at Bingo smoky in there (don't know if any of you went to Bingo as a kid with your Grandmother, but if you did, you'll understand).  Gross...

We get to the office, I go to the receptionist desk to sign in and see a stack of boxes and such that a hoarder would be proud of.  Floor to ceiling stacked and looking messy.  My mind starts clicking into business owner mode.  As one of the aforementioned, I know that first impressions are so important.  If one of my businesses looked like this, well, one of my businesses wouldn't look like this....'nuff said.

I go sit next to Brad, I won't mention how archaic their office equipment was, or the handles missing from their cabinets behind the desk, nope, not bringing those up, and I finally get called back.  The nurse who takes us back keeps referring to Brad as "my helper" and proceeds to piss off my already rattled mind.

I am put in an exam room with an office partition and small desk crammed in there, there is a nurse on the phone who gleefully explains she was "displaced" from her desk and this is her office.  She apologizes for being in there and proceeds to stay talking on her phone until my history is done by the other nurse.  Brad is standing there looking around like we must be in the wrong place...

The other nurse leaves and the Dr. comes in.  Again, first impressions get me.  He is in his scrubs, that looked ok, but it's the ratty navy blue fleece covered in white dog fur that got me.  For real?  Are you really wearing that seeing patients?  Couldn't you at least vacuum yourself or something?  Please tell me you don't biopsy wearing that....

He gets to the exam, and then says he wants to ultrasound my breast.  Fine, he pulls over the wand from an ultrasound machine that Brad later joked with me "Didn't you see him bang the side of it a few times to get it started?" and I said it should have had hamsters running on wheels to power it it looked so old.  He is zeroing in on 11:00 o'clock, like who knew boobs could tell time, because that's the vicinity the radiologist saw the mass in.  And.....

He can't find it.....

He did tell me he could show me Mickey Mouse on there though.  Thank Goodness, that made me feel worlds better.

I sit up, I'm done and say, "so there's nothing there?"  And he basically tells me he cannot find what the radiologist saw.  My head is spinning.  I saw it on the mammography, I saw it on the ultrasound at St. Francis, and he couldn't find it.  He didn't look any farther than 11:00 on breast.  Did that make a difference?  I asked him about my scary radiology report.  About the mass with irregular borders, about the Bi-rad rating it received.  He said that he couldn't agree with the report since he didn't see what the other Dr. saw but that he would call him and discuss.  That St. Francis's would be calling me, for what?  I guess another ultrasound?  That I need to go back to St. Francis and get biopsied there.  That this is small enough we can watch and wait even, say what??  Come again?

Done, you are now dismissed....by Dr. Dog Fur.  Have a nice day.

I walk out trying to be happy, thinking this is a good thing, but nothing is settling with me.  After awhile of chewing on all that just happened, I finally say out loud to Brad everything that was bothering me about my appointment.  I decide I am finding someone else to see.  I will get another ultrasound at St. Francis, I will take my results and I will go to another Doctor and get another opinion.

I will not watch and wait, I will be proactive.  And as always, I will keep you posted.



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