I go home, I do whatever it is I do with myself. I honestly don’t remember if I told my parents that night, Monday, or if it was a little later. It was probably Monday, I’m not great at just holding secrets like that from anybody important, really, but especially my parents. They took it the way I expected they would- sadly, but with love, positivity and steadfast support.
At some point, I looked more closely at the paper my doctor had given me. The date on the paper for when the radiologist place had said they’d told me was the 18th. That was Friday. The radiologist did tell me I had cancer on Friday, when I called them. My doctor’s office and the most awkward phone call of all time (holy shit I just in this exact moment writing this realized I will from now on and forevermore win any contest about “most awkward phone call” ha!) was the 17th: Thursday. Someone’s full of shit here whether it’s on purpose or not. Who is it? Do I have time to care about this right now? Regardless of how it was relayed to me, I have fucking cancer and who cares about the details of how I found out?
For the next days, I called a bunch of places. I was very vocal and “I have cancer”y about it all. I had no idea what to ask and what to do and I just didn’t really trust my doctor to be communicative. I did get ahold of her and she said she’d put in a referral but she didn’t really give me a lot more information. It’s a bit of a blur and I didn’t know exactly what to ask and she didn’t volunteer anything or run me through the process, nothing. So I’m calling places, asking what I’m supposed to do, I talked to the radiologist’s office a lot. They were kind and so patient. They gave me the initial feeling of support I realized I found lacking with my doctor. My doctor’s office front desk people were so kind too, and really sweet. But it was too late, I didn’t want their help because the whole place was tainted for me. I know it’s not rational but that changes nothing about how I feel.
I ended up calling the breast care center of the place I was going to have to go, according to insurance, and talking to several people. Some I talked to told me who was working where and saying stuff like, “If it was me, I’d want these doctors- this surgeon, this oncologist, this radiation doctor…” Who they thought was great at their jobs and had good results and patients liked them. I was writing it all down. But nothing was happening. I wasn’t getting any calls. I thought it was like, we found cancer! and then some kind of team leaps out like “We’re gonna stop it… together!”
What actually happened was that I waited for what felt like a thousand years (I am not kidding, time has been a real melty thing since late October) and felt like I was going to crawl out of my skin. I didn’t – I finally got a call from a place that said I’d been approved for a consult with a certain doctor. Gah I was so relieved. Not a name I recognized from my various conversations and own internet research, but, someone. Something. I looked her up. Plastic surgeon. I’m like… what is happening. I call around and basically tell the person at the referral place (we talk a lot there at the beginning) that there has to be some kind of mistake. I’m not supposed to see a plastic surgeon before a surgeon surgeon like for cancer… am I ? I actually have no idea but it feels off. Various people I talk to are sympathetic, especially when I mention the fucked up way I heard, my “journey” so far. I feel like all my complaints are valid, but also maybe I’m milking it? Am I? Or is this what anyone would do? Why is it sometimes so hard to know what is right? There’s so much to juggle.
Sometimes I have trouble deciphering what’s rational and what’s selfish because I feel like I was told I was selfish a lot as a kid and I couldn’t always understand why. I was also pretty reactive so I second guess myself when I’m irritated. Then I had relationships with people who often made me feel like there was something wrong with me, too. I always assumed I was a difficult person to love. Now I wonder how much time that wasted. So many years not really settling- more like, just not trusting the process. Just like, scared that this is it cuz of who I am as a person.
I tell the referral place I don’t want to see the plastic surgeon. I want to see a cancer surgeon. They agree and say they’ll work on it. They give me the name of the office manager for my doctor’s office. They encourage me to tell that person about my experience so far. I am glad to have the name, but… I don’t love the idea of getting the doctor in trouble, maybe it’s just me who is having these weird issues? Do I care about looking backwards right now or do I just keep my head above water and keep my eyes on the shore?
I get a phone call a little while later from my doctor’s office, it’s after hours. I wonder if it’s the office manager. Did someone feel disturbed by my story enough to talk to her and give her my name and number? I’m confused but I answer. It’s my doctor. “Did you tell them you wanted a different surgeon?” she asked. I’m immediately flustered “Uhh, yeah I did. Everything I saw about this other person you referred me to said she was a plastic surgeon, not, like, a cancer surgeon.”
She sounds a little irritated, “Well she does both I thought, does she not do that? I referred her because many of my patients with breast cancer have gone to her.” I had to admit to myself that no, I had not asked if she was also a cancer surgeon, but google didn’t say anything about that, and neither had the referral person mentioned that oh, she also does xyz. I fumbled over my words. “I just, I wasn’t sure what was going on and it didn’t sound like she did…” Had I just made an ass of myself, acting like I knew what I was doing? I’ll be the first to admit that I could be projecting her vibe. This whole thing has been, you know, fucking strange. She mentioned a name of a doc I’d heard mentioned, and said, essentially, “What about this one, you want this one?” I was like, YES.
When we’re off the phone, I think about how the first time I heard anything about any of this, her office was calling me, asking me if I’d made any appointments yet. And here I was, weeks later, waiting for approval from this place and that place- why on earth would they be calling me to make the appointments in the first place? This is totally not something I’m supposed to do at all! How have they fucked this up so royally, I keep wondering. I want a new PCP but maaan, I just don’t really want to mess with it right now you know? I actually have a fairly long to do list at the moment. With the… you know, cancer. That I have. Inside my boob.
All through this, I told some people at work. It feels performative. I told a few more people. It isn’t real. I did the things reddit suggested. I made a cancer binder where I could put info and questions for when I saw doctors. I told a couple friends. I talked to my best friend, who seems to be throwing herself into being my number one fan and it’s wonderful. She just went through all this and I had no idea of the exhaustion of waiting and the tiring nature of telling everyone. Also I just had to do this reaching out when shit is falling apart song and dance not quite two years ago with my divorce! Sheesh world, can I please have my dignity for like a few years at a time at least? But also, I have done things right to have this community. I make sense of things by making fucked up jokes to those who know. And I’m thankful for them.
I went to a really great Halloween party. I didn’t tell anyone about any of this. It was a blast, I had no problem acting like a normal person without cancer, after all, it’s been my longest role. There’s no need to lament uncertainty, there’s literally no point. I dressed as a version of strawberry shortcake called strawberry tallcake. It was a hit. I laughed and talked and ate and sat by a fire and danced and it was wonderful.