Just call me Dr az.
I went to see the oncologist yesterday. Dr Ana is on holiday so I saw one of my original colon cancer oncs. As I mentioned in my summer holidays post, I’ve had very bad reactions to the last three infusions of Oxyplatin and so I decided that for the sixth and final round of chemo I’d just take the Xeloda chemo pills and forgo the infusion. When I told my friend/student/GP Agustín this the other day he went all doctory on me and said this wasn’t a decision I should make without the advice of my oncologist. So I gave that a shot and I’m not surprised at all how things went…
I also wasn’t surprised when I finally got in to see the onc that they still hadn’t located my massive patient history file (it was also missing when I last saw Dr Ana three weeks ago). And so Dr Lemon explained she really didn’t know what was going on – she had the January report in front of her that the Idiot Onc had “doctored” so it didn’t reflect the truth of what happened during that particular appointment. And so I gave Dr L a quick update and told her this was my sixth and final round of chemo, explained the awful reactions I’d been having from the Oxi and asked if, in her opinion, she thought it would be okay for me to do just take the chemo pills. And she said – are you ready? – that I didn’t have to do the infusion if I didn’t want to. When I told Agustín this during our evening class yesterday he couldn’t believe it. And so I told him that it’s been this way all along with every oncologist I’ve seen since May 2008. None of them actually want to give me any medical advice! They just follow the various protocols and treat me like I’m being a nuisance when I want more information. So fuck them.
I mean, all of my surgeons have been wonderful and very easy to talk to, including the guys that installed my port. And of course the nuclear medicine team, who are all friends and ex-students of mine, are very good at spending time with me explaining what my scan results mean. But the oncs are stupendously uncommunicative. And when they do blurt out a medical opinion “under duress” it’s always been totally wrong and based on incomplete information (as in, they hadn’t bothered to read the most recent reports – duh!).
So it looks like it’s up to me to make decisions about my cancer treatment based on whatever information I can glean from any source other than my oncologists. Does this make any sense? In any case, I am happy with this latest decision. I will start on the dreaded chemo pills tomorrow morning for two weeks and then I’ll have a holiday from hospitals until September. Well, other than having to go in and get my port flushed out every 21 days.
It was such a relief to be DONE with all this crap for awhile that I felt like celebrating and so Nog invited me out for a “proper lunch” (as opposed to just a tapa treat). We ended up at a new place that Susan & I had wanted to try out the day we had our summer solstice Christmas adventure. But it turned out to be closed on Sundays. And so today was the day. It’s called Soravito and it’s run by a very nice couple – Florian and Nuria. He’s French, she’s Spanish. You can see what we had below.
It really does feel good to know that I am “free” for at least two months. I’ll be having another CT scan then. But meanwhile I am going to be working on healing, getting healthy and generally living life to the fullest. I’ve already got about half a dozen students lined up for September so I’m not too worried about finding more. I’m actually tempted to feel a bit more than just cautiously optimistic, but I’m also happy to just be calmly pleased with how things are going.
Nice looking lunch, eh?
Needed a two-hour siesta afterwards…
salmon tartar & black pudding in filo pastry
pork tenderloin in teriyaki sauce & chicken brochette with couscous
casa azahar 
Sometimes, as you say, you have to be your own doctor…
It will certainly make you feel better to have taken the bull by the horns, so to speak (and when it comes to the oncologist, “bull” is about the right word). They all seem to have gotten their degrees from the same Crackerjack box!
The food looks fantastic (when does it not, at any of the placed you go?)!
LikeLike
Between us we could probably lead workshops in this art. In this case it sounds to me like medical education = average, ratiocination skills = 0.
LikeLike
I’m outraged on your behalf about the hopeless oncologists, but pleased about the decision not to have to take the infusion.
And that lunch looks absolutely delicious. I must stop reading your posts first thing in the morning though – they make me long for lunchtime and I have a whole 2 hours to get through yet!!!
LikeLike
Actually, what doctors don’t tell you is that for the most part, it’s all up to you anyway. They can give you all the pills and advice in the world, but you have to take it. And you have to listen to your body, too. You are doing it right.
LikeLike
Wow! I must have been very lucky with my doctors (except GPs) as I’m considered too exciting to be rude / ignorant to. As the tumour I have is believed to be fairly rare (1 in 1 000 000) I’ve been shown off to numerous medical students (almost with pride, like they’ve done something exciting…groan) and currently they are arguing about who gets to do my follow-ups post surgery. The only ones that have bowed out are the cardiologists as they feel no significant damage has been done and the surgery should prevent any more happening.
Last chemo though! All done with the icky bits and just the port rinses to maintain – doesn’t sound too bad. For me it’s always the anticipation of a bad thing and being halfway through the bad thing that is worst. I’ll toast you with some soda later…champagne will have to wait until August.
LikeLike
Yep, fabulous lunch, as always.
And now az is going to spend August healing, and being ready and raring to go come September.
LikeLike
I could swear that all your doctors must have come from St. Johns in the Ozarks.
Enjoy your month of healing. YOu need it. Glad to hear you have students lined up for September.
I’m confused. YOur proper lunch looks a lot like tapas. Very good looking food, though. I’m with Truce, I wish I wasn’t reading your food posts hours before dinner time.
LikeLike
A shrewd eye, hmh! Yes, those are indeed tapas, just more of them than usual, making it a “proper lunch”.
For the past while Nog has been inviting me out for “tapa treats” which include sharing one tapa and having one drink each. And those are much appreciated treats as it’s nice to get out and still be able to enjoy a bit of “tapearing”.
This meal was a special occasion to celebrate the beginning of my holiday from hospitals. 🙂
LikeLike
I love that you get time to regenerate. I’m so sorry the oncs suck, but glad you are intelligent and can deal with them. I wonder what stupid people do in this situation? That question probably shows MY ignorance but I wonder, anyway.
I’m glad things are leveling out and up for you. You sound positively centered right now.
LikeLike
I’m not sure about being “positively centred” right now, Beth, but I’m working on it.
What’s really frustrating is that I know the decisions are ultimately mine to make, but isn’t it a doctor’s job to give you their professional opinion and medical advice? Otherwise what’s the point of them?
In the end common sense and talking to people on the Colon Club forum was what helped me decide to go with just the pills this time. And I’m not feeling half as sick as with the infusions, which I think is what I needed right now, compared to the marginal difference one more round with infusion would have made.
So now, fingers crossed for a long and happy remission!
LikeLike