Shokufeh is... home

Here we go again

I just got my stitches removed. Yay! I was afraid it would hurt, but it was painless. I was hoping this would be the last I would write about my head saga. Except maybe to say that maybe I'll miss my bright blue stitches a little.

On the bright side, I'll be sporting bright blue stitches again in less than a week. On the not-so-excited-about side, they're not just a fashion statement: pathology says more of my scalp needs to be removed. Again, not cancer, just not normal.

I've learned a couple of things about medical care in the past month. After all, I have visited this clinic at the cancer center seven times in that time. And the primary clinic once. First of all, it's so important to look at yourself as a partner in the process. So often, I think, people look at themselves as the recepients of care. They forget that they have a role to play in ensuring that they get the best care they can get. Not just a role as an advocate, but also as an informed caretaker and information collector and sharer. I recognize that, unfortunately, this requires a modicum of health literacy - something that the medical system, and our society in general, doesn't always facilitate. (Just the fact that, so often, someone takes your blood pressure and doesn't tell you what it is, or what it means.)

For example, part of the decision-making process over the past month has relied on the fact that I shared with my doctors and nurses that I would like to get pregnant soon. If that wasn't a factor, they might have delayed the process. Worse, if I had chosen not to share that fact, they would have no reason to specifically tell me not to get pregnant until we're done with this. Then we'd be dealing with the possible effects of anesthesia on a developing embryo. In contrast, when I went the primary care clinic recently, I mentioned visiting the cancer center, but didn't really elaborate, and the physician didn't probe. Her suggestions for the pains in my chest included Advil. Not a good idea, since I'd recently been cut into. But part of that responsibility rests on me, because I didn't elaborate on what I'd had done. Luckily, I knew enough to ignore her suggestion. (Which I likely would have done anyway, since the chest pain is very mild and I'm not a big fan of unneccessary meds.)

The other thing I've learned is that it's the little things that make a big difference in how you perceive your quality of care. I have been SO pleased with the care I've gotten in the past month. The main reason: I've been treated with respect, as a person. For example, at the primary care clinic, I left my insurance card at the front desk so that the receptionist could make a copy. So often, the receptionist will then call your name out, and you get up from your seat to go get your card. But, in this case, she came out from behind the counter to give me my card. And when the billing person met with me, rather than just calling out my name, she came over to me to get me. Not a huge thing to do, but a very meaningful action. At the cancer center, there is that same courtesy and respect - remembering that I'm coming from a meeting, or just the fact that they frame decisions within the context of my anticipated pregnancy.

So, I'm bummed about having to get cut again. And delaying a baby. But I'm happy to have be part of such a great healthcare team.