Still waiting…

WARNING – This post may be uncharacteristically whiny and cranky.  It is boring, and lacks any pictures or “fun stuff.”  Maybe its the heat.  Maybe its the start of menopause, or maybe, just MAYBE it’s the WAITING!

So, last year when we were first diagnosed with the Cowden’s Syndrome, the geneticist suggested my daughter and I each be followed regularly by an oncologist who would act as a ‘case manager’ of sorts.  Seemed logical.  We got Meghan set up with a doctor in NYC.  She actually has experience treating “patients like us.”  We thought we were golden.  She ordered the initial scans for Meghan (and even for me) of the brain.  She ordered Meghan’s thyroid sonogram, and her biopsy last November. 

Well, that biopsy was a traumatic train wreck to say the least.  To make it worse, when we spoke to the oncologist about it she was defensive of the doctor she had sent us to.  We moved the biopsy slides to another hospital and she was obviously annoyed.  She is still Meghan’s oncologist of record, but we haven’t seen her in months.

I tried an oncologist here at home.  He listened, the first visit, and the second.  On the second visit he suggested I look into having the remainder of my thyroid removed prophylactically.  He gave me the name of a surgeon and told me to go ASAP.  So, when I called to make an appointment with the surgeon and he wouldn’t see me, I called my oncologist back.  He would not get on the phone with me, and would not call the doctor on my behalf.  I was livid, but found myself an endocrine surgeon who (at least for now) advised against removing the rest of my thyroid.

When I called my oncologist back in late January to schedule my breast MRI.  I was told it was too early.  I reminded them that February marked 6 months since my last, and in fact it was right on time.  They refused to authorize the MRI until late March.  Well, we know how that turned out.  When they called me with the authorization number I laughed at the irony of the whole thing, and told them I didn’t need another appointment.

So, there was the mastectomy in March.  Great surgeons, great catch, great job.

There was the hysterectomy in May.  Again, great surgeon.  Job well done.

The surgeon in May recommended an oncologist in her practice for me.  I called to make an appointment.  I was told to fax my paperwork.  I asked if they could just look in my chart.  It is all shared between the doctors.  No, please fax it.  Ok – 39 pages later – and a huge fight with my fax machine… I got it. 

They called today to tell me the oncologist thinks I should see a geneticist instead.  Gee isn’t that ingenious?  That is how I got diagnosed to begin with.   Dope.  They will look into it and call me back.

I am starting to feel like PTEN mutation is some sort of plague.  What is WRONG with these people?

Which brings me back to my girl.  In February the surgeon(who people travel the world to see) for her AVM said that her next surgery would need to be at Boston Children’s Hospital.  They were not sure exactly when, but July was floated as a possibility.  So we went last Thursday, the 28th of June for her MRI.  After a grueling 2 hours, we left with a CD in hand, and the promise that the results would be at the NY surgeon’s office Monday.

I took the copy of the disk I had, put a cover letter on it, and sent it to the Boston surgeon we met in April, promising him a report would soon follow.

Monday I called the NY surgeon for the results.  I was told the disk hadn’t arrived.  They would call me.  I called again this morning.  I reminded the receptionist that I really was anxious about the results.  It’s on his desk she told me.  She also told me he leaves today for vacation till Monday.  I asked her to be sure someone calls me today.  I carried my cell phone ALL day. 

It’s 10:04.  I guess I will be waiting till Monday.  Really?  I know it could be worse.  It could always be worse, but enough with the lack of compassion, the inability, and lack of desire to follow through.  Enough with being scared of treating us because you don’t quite understand what we have.  Enough WAITING!

“The Waiting Place…”

Oh, the Places You'll Go!

 “…You can get so confused
that you’ll start in to race
down long wiggled roads at a break-necking pace
and grind on for miles across weirdish wild space,
headed, I fear, toward a most useless place.
The Waiting Place…

…for people just waiting.
Waiting for a train to go
or a bus to come, or a plane to go
or the mail to come, or the rain to go
or the phone to ring, or the snow to snow
or waiting around for a Yes or a No
or waiting for their hair to grow.
Everyone is just waiting.

Waiting for the fish to bite
or waiting for wind to fly a kite
or waiting around for Friday night
or waiting, perhaps, for their Uncle Jake
or a pot to boil, or a Better Break
or a string of pearls, or a pair of pants
or a wig with curls, or Another Chance.
Everyone is just waiting…” –  Dr. Seuss

I ABSOLUTELY DESPISE THE WAITING PLACE!

There is more to the book.  Lots more, but this is the part that keeps running through my mind, right now, at 1 AM, as I sit buried under a pile of papers.  There is some combination of house bills, medical bills, medical errors that need to be corrected, and “this just has to wait because I can’t deal with it right now.”

I successfully organized a lot, and have a bag of shredding to prove it.  This makes me happy.  I like order.  I strive on structure.  I can sometimes be a little difficult to live with because in my house every toy, every item, has a “home.”  Nothing is left laying around.  I will confess to being a bit compulsive.

Why?  People ask all the time.  Why, with all you have been through, why after the breast cancer, the hysterectomy, Meghan’s surgeries, WHY does it matter if your floor is mopped and your counter is clean?  All the time I hear – LET IT GO!

Well, the truth is – I can’t.

I need control.  I need to control what I can control, which these past few months hasn’t been a whole heck of a lot.  So, if having control over my clean floor and my clutter free desk makes me happy, people are going to have to go with that.

I have mentioned several times that my Mom always says, “You plan, God laughs.”  Well we have joked that He has had a few good chuckles this year.  While I feel INCREDIBLY blessed for the countless things that have gone well, sometimes the fact that Cowden’s Syndrome invaded our house and stripped me of the ability to plan, schedule, control, and order just about anything really gets under my skin.

After Meghan’s AVM surgery in February, we were told she was likely to need additional surgery in a few months.  I did not sign her up for camp, WAITING.  We had the MRI last Thursday.  She spent 2 hours in the tube WAITING for them to take 5,000 images.  I will call again tomorrow, but I will likely spend the week WAITING for the report, and the decision as the whether the next surgery is to happen now or later.

I signed her up for dance once a week, and swimming once a week, but we are WAITING on the MRI results to know if she will complete either of those classes.

Then, with the lack of a structured day she spends her time WAITING and hoping someone will come and swim with her. (That is when we are not WAITING at doctor’s appointments!) Her mother is WAITING for the lingering bleeding from the hysterectomy 7 weeks ago to stop before I head back into the pool.

I feel like these last few months have been full of WAITING.  WAITING for surgery, WAITING to go home, WAITING for pathology, WAITING …

I have no control over any of this.  I do believe GOD is in charge, and I am so comforted by that belief.  It is my human frailty that keeps me searching for ownership and control where it is not mine to have.

I will WAIT.  And I will do it as patiently as I can.  Cowden’s Syndrome will be full of WAITING – forever it seems.

But, I will wait with a clean, organized house.  I can not control this PTEN mutation, or the Cowden’s Syndrome that resulted, but I CAN certainly control the clean counters, and the dog fur… well, most of the time!           

Towards the end of his book Dr. Seuss reminds me, and all of us…

“And will you succeed?
Yes! You will, indeed!
(98 and 3/4 percent guaranteed.)

Signature of Dr. Seuss
Signature of Dr. Seuss (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

KID, YOU’LL MOVE MOUNTAINS!” – Dr. Seuss

Summer vacation begins…eventually!

Our Vegetable Garden

Summer Vacation began today.  Yesterday was the last day of school for Meghan and I until early September.

 I love this time of year, where I always say I get to have one full-time job (stay at home mom) instead of two.  Well, maybe it’s two full-time jobs – medical manager of all things Cowden’s related, AND stay at home mom…  But either way it is a break from the responsibilities of work, with all the benefits of still receiving a paycheck. 

Meghan’s report card was beautiful.  She makes us so proud.  We talked all about the end of third grade and the beginning of fourth.  We ordered a new backpack (Have to order early if you want that special GREEN!) 

Then she asked what we would do today, to start off our first real vacation day. I don’t think she was surprised when I answered with, “A doctor’s appointment and an MRI.” The opening in a GE Signa MRI machine

So this morning I got up at regular time.  I watered the vegetables in our garden which is growing so beautifully this year.  I made sure Meghan was dressed, and the dogs were crated.  And we walked out the door at exactly the same time we caught the school bus every morning for 10 months.

 We made it to NYC in time for my surgical follow-up.  I have officially had all restrictions lifted, although the chronic bleeding continues!  I was told not to worry, and it should be gone in another 4 weeks.  Delightful. 

Then, we walked a few blocks to the knee MRI.  She was in the tube at 10:02, with only 0.25mg of xanax to take the edge off, and lasted in there until 12:05.  unbelievable.  They told me they had 5,000 images.  I left with a CD in hand, and a promise there would be a report by Monday.
We got home in time for a quick lunch.  I managed to get the CD of the MRI, combined with a cover letter, in an envelope to Dr. K, head of orthopedics at Children’s in Boston, and sent it off in the mail.  Some time next week he will call to tell us if the date for surgery will be sooner… or later. 

We made it to a friend’s pool for a few fun hours, to try to salvage the day.  She went to bed exhausted, and soon I will too.  I hope this isn’t an indicator of what summer holds, because I am striving for a serious amount of doctor free days.  More time with the kid, the pool, and the tomato plants. 

Come on summer… be good to us.  We need you!