Ricochet is the best place on the internet to discuss the issues of the day, either through commenting on posts or writing your own for our active and dynamic community in a fully moderated environment. In addition, the Ricochet Audio Network offers over 50 original podcasts with new episodes released every day.
Dr. Quinn, Medicine Woman, Part II
May 18, 2020 (yesterday)
With all the negativity in the air, even here at Ricochet (with some inspiring exceptions), I’m trying to write something that is humorous and light on my upcoming cystoscopy tomorrow morning. Somehow, I can’t quite get there.
However! For those of you who saw my last Dr. Quinn post, written nearly three weeks ago, I’m here to tell you that I’m rarin’ to get to the doctor and learn what the heck is going on. Well, sort of.
Briefly, on Easter Sunday I went to the emergency room with bleeding. They couldn’t identify the problem. Then a gynecologist suggested I had a mass on my uterus, hinting at cancer and surgery; the gynecological oncologist, however, reassured me a few days later that the problem was not my uterus, the protuberance was attached to my urethra and we still didn’t know what was going on. And tomorrow we will try again to come up with a diagnosis.
Fortunately, even though the doctor’s office is in the hospital, they allow patients to bring one guest. Yes, I’m a big girl and quite capable, but I’m so glad that my hubby will be there with me. Since I have been a pathetic drama queen up until now, wondering about my mysterious ailments, assuming the absolute worst, I hope I learn that I’m suffering from something quite ordinary and easily treated.
Meanwhile, since the appointment is at 8:30 a.m. and we have to allow for travel time, we wouldn’t possibly have time for breakfast before leaving home, so we are indulging in Dunkin’ Donuts. (Yes, I still use the second word in their name because it’s the only part that matters.) I will get one chocolate/chocolate donut—I always imagine getting two, but the darn things are so rich that I can’t get through a second one. And Jerry will get two glazed donuts. He can get through two of those. We will make him some tea before we leave the house and I will get DD coffee, which I will probably mostly drink after the appointment. If you know what a cystoscopy is, you’ll understand why.
So I’m trying to keep busy today, make-believe that I’m not really in pain, and try not to think about tomorrow. . .
* * * *
May 19, 2020
I’m back home now, and started the day off perfectly as planned—a chocolate/chocolate donut. I was so surprised at how smoothly things went in this testing process, even though we had to follow certain screening steps: a text to us in our car (asking for registering information, which I submitted); then instructions to enter the hospital (where the urologist office is upstairs); taking our temperatures and then moving into the hospital lobby where we found two chairs where we were permitted to sit together; and then another text directing us to the office.
The entire process was not only flawless, but every person I encountered this morning was so kind and caring. The office staff person was not only cordial but made a point of making eye contact and spoke in a comforting voice. The assisting nurse was friendly. The Physician Assistant was warm and had done his homework on my previous treatments (which are conveniently on the Advent Health portal). The good news is that the procedure was fairly effortless, and the doctor assured me that my bladder looked fine. The bad news is that he’s still speculating about the protrusion on my urethra. He said he was going to order a CT with contrast, and suggested that I might want to go over to Imaging (on the other side of the second floor) and see if they could work me in; if they did, he would call me before the end of the day!
So we walked over to Imaging, and here was this delightful man named Angus at the Imaging reception desk, and he had this charming Irish accent (I swear). Our senses of humor engaged, he took pity on me, went back to talk to the staff, and returned to say they would take me by 11:30 a.m. (It was then 9:15 a.m.) He cautioned me it could be sooner, so not to go far. We did have to go back to registration, but it all went smoothly, and every person was so darn friendly and kind! And then we went back up to Imaging.
It was sooner! At 10 a.m., they took me back. And this nurse was a delight. She called me “Love.” And at another time I may have been annoyed, but I actually did feel loved. I was in and out within a half-hour, and we were on our way.
So now I wait. I’m exhausted just from the relief of knowing that cancer is highly unlikely, but surgery may be needed. I’ll know more later.
But I can rest in the truth that a day that could have been traumatic and upsetting went without a hitch, amidst professional and caring people.
I’ll post as soon as I know more. Thanks for all the caring and reassuring comments to date.
Published in General
Prayers ongoing, Susan.
Thanks, Percival. I’m going to feel kind of silly if it sends up being something un-serious. But having had such a healthy life, it was all scary! And I appreciated being able to “confide” in all of you!
I’m praying for silly.
Ah, gee, now I’m tearing up . . .
I think you were very brave indeed. Good work! There are actual sick people in those places so you certainly did not belong there. But brave you did the necessary and let your sweetie keep you company. It’s never too much to have someone with you as advocate in a medical setting. Who hears everything they tell you? Good work.
(Fingers crossed for a fabulous outcome)
Ah, thanks so much, @eodmom. My hubby is a very comforting presence. Of course, if I hadn’t suggested donuts on the way, I’m not sure he would have agreed to take me! ;-) It just seemed like everyone was sensitive to the inconvenience we were all having to tolerate, and went out of their way to be nice.
Sounds like as good an experience as one could have under the circumstances. I have found almost all medical personnel to be very helpful and kind in my years. I’m sure there’s the nasty nurse or doctor out there somewhere but I can’t remember having to deal with one. My only problem when I had to have my appendix out was that the ER doctor looked like he was 17 or so. Maybe all doctors could wear white wigs until they actually have their own white hair? Putting you on my prayer list Susan.
I know from experience that waiting for test results is the hardest part. The imagination tends to run wild. So there are good thoughts being sent your way.
And besides the donut I would have rewarded myself with a latte!
Darn–a missed opportunity!! BTW, we were the only ones in the shop… thanks @justmeinaz.
That reminds me of the time I had to fly in a 4-seater plane in some dinky airport. When the pilot walked up, I just about fainted–he looked 16 too! And military crew cut and uniform didn’t help! But obviously I survived . . .
As they say, @rodin, from your lips to G-d’s ears . . .
Here is a woman not afraid of a challenge . . .
Praying everything is okay!
Are you certain it wasn’t a burr rather than a brogue?
Praying for everything to be simple and healthy.
Very glad to hear that things went so well, Susan, and I’m praying for “silly” too, just like @percival. The worst part of these sorts of experiences is the build-up, the anxiety, and the not knowing. I’m glad you’re getting sorted and that things are getting back to something approaching normality.
I’ve had almost universally pleasant experiences with health-care workers, too. I can’t recall this particular exception, but my granny and mother told me about it often enough. I was about five years old and having a plaster cast on my broken arm removed. (It was an old-fashioned, heavy one, this was years before the lightweight ones they have now, and it went all the way from my wrist to my armpit, with my arm bent at a 90-degree angle. I’d had it on for six weeks.)
The nurse came at me with an enormous pair of shears, with the intention of hacking her way through it. (It was also long before they invented that little rotary thing that buzzes neatly through the cast but doesn’t hurt your skin.)
I started screaming.
Granny was sitting in the car, out in the parking lot. She said she could hear me from there.
You poor thing. Your poor Granny!
I have actually had wonderful health care folks treat and take care of me, and I’m trying to figure out why this time seems so different. I think that there is a sense that we are all struggling (us and them) and we are in this dilemma together. I think they sense my caring about the difficulties they have to work with, and they know mine. The PA was very understanding when I asked if the delay in scheduling my procedure was due to their being so booked, or due to the virus; he said both, and then explained why–without my asking for a detailed explanation. It was our shared dilemma and at some level we both felt that.
I don’t mind the little commuters when I draw a pilot that young.
As long as he isn’t a test pilot.
I’m impressed that your hubby could come in. Here the hospitals won’t let any non-patients into the hospital building, so a friend of mine is having heart triple bypass surgery this week without his wife of fifty years there to see him off to surgery nor to hold his hand in recovery.
I think the decision is left to the practice or doctor. I can’t imagine your friend’s wife being excluded for a surgery so serious. Sending prayers.
I’ve accompanied my wife to many surgeries and procedures, so I know your husband’s caregiver role well. Prayers for a positive test result!
Looking forward to hearing the good report.
It is certain you will power through this with faith and good humor. No worries.
Is that a 9/11 thing? They don’t want terrorists hijacking their MRIs?
Pardon my intrusion, but I hope your protrusion is just an illusion. (Sorry, I got trapped in @BillGatesWillInjectYouNow’s post and I couldn’t get out).
You’re forgiven, since you’ve made me laugh!
Richard Fulmer, the proper incantation to summon him is @pseudodionysius.
My ears were burning.
I’m praying for you, too! A protrusion there is so painful! I’m especially glad that everyone took care of you properly. It makes a huge difference. I hope you will hear back soon.
Update – I found out late last night that his wife will be permitted a brief pre-surgery visit.
No, it’s a very recent Covid-19 thing.