Thursday, June 28, 2007
the onc doc
Welp. I met with Dr. Abbas, the gynecological oncologist, yesterday. My friend Cathy went with me. She even canceled a beach trip to go with me!
I was told by the secretary at my gyn to be prepared to wait and she was right. Well, looking back, it was 2 hours all told but it sure seemed endless.
We finally got moved from the packed waiting room to the doc's office. As we sat there waiting for him, Cathy said how unfair this must be for someone who really is dying and time if so precious. We got a good, sick laugh out of this.
We had plenty of time to look at his myriad of diplomas and certifications as well as the chachkas. It seemed he has an odd sense of humor. I noticed a closet was slightly ajar and I saw what looked like poster of maybe Motley Crue or something so I opened the door and it was the Pussycat Dolls! hah.
He finally came in and I liked him a lot. Although he didn't have a clue why I was there. I told him he was going to be at my surgery on the 30th.
He really didn't have much more information. Other than the fact that I would be intubated. I didn't like the fact that the anesthesiologist told me I stopped breathing four times during the ablation so I was happy about that.
I did ask about whether I should have my ovaries removed. He said it was up to me and that there are pros and cons to both and he has no set opinion.
Then I went in to have him look up my hoo hoo. When he came into the exam room after another half hour of my laying there in all my glory ... he said he was thinking about it and he thinks I should have the ovaries removed. That the ovaries produce estrogen which is what is thought a cause of the cancer and that if there were any radical cells left, that wouldn't be good. And that if I did have terrible menopause symptoms, he would have no problem giving me estrogen. That seems counterintuitive but I sort of get it.
I guess I will but I am not ready to say it.
Oh, he also wants me to get a colonoscopy. Oy.
And so it goes ...
There was a closet wiht
I was told by the secretary at my gyn to be prepared to wait and she was right. Well, looking back, it was 2 hours all told but it sure seemed endless.
We finally got moved from the packed waiting room to the doc's office. As we sat there waiting for him, Cathy said how unfair this must be for someone who really is dying and time if so precious. We got a good, sick laugh out of this.
We had plenty of time to look at his myriad of diplomas and certifications as well as the chachkas. It seemed he has an odd sense of humor. I noticed a closet was slightly ajar and I saw what looked like poster of maybe Motley Crue or something so I opened the door and it was the Pussycat Dolls! hah.
He finally came in and I liked him a lot. Although he didn't have a clue why I was there. I told him he was going to be at my surgery on the 30th.
He really didn't have much more information. Other than the fact that I would be intubated. I didn't like the fact that the anesthesiologist told me I stopped breathing four times during the ablation so I was happy about that.
I did ask about whether I should have my ovaries removed. He said it was up to me and that there are pros and cons to both and he has no set opinion.
Then I went in to have him look up my hoo hoo. When he came into the exam room after another half hour of my laying there in all my glory ... he said he was thinking about it and he thinks I should have the ovaries removed. That the ovaries produce estrogen which is what is thought a cause of the cancer and that if there were any radical cells left, that wouldn't be good. And that if I did have terrible menopause symptoms, he would have no problem giving me estrogen. That seems counterintuitive but I sort of get it.
I guess I will but I am not ready to say it.
Oh, he also wants me to get a colonoscopy. Oy.
And so it goes ...
There was a closet wiht
