Shortly after things settled down at my parents’ house, I excused myself so I could go outside to call a good friend of mine. Gerry had wanted to know my results, so I wanted to give him the courtesy. After taking in the bad news, he offered to ask his cousin, an emergency physician at a mid-town hospital, if he knew a doctor he could put me in touch with.
Only minutes later, I was speaking to Gerry’s cousin about seeing the stomach/esophageal surgeon at the hospital his cousin also worked. He said the surgeon was very well known in his field, and arranged an appointment for me for the following Monday, at the surgeon’s weekly clinic in the hospital.
I knew by instinct, by the apparent reputation of this surgeon and what Gerry had told me about his kind cousin, that this surgeon would likely be the one to operate. So I accepted with great appreciation. How could I refuse such gracious assistance.
All things became mechanical by this point. I began to do some research and forcefully prepare for the worst.
After several years, Gerry told me that his cousin, having known some details of my diagnosis, warned him, “It doesn’t look good for her.”
Amazing how so much is said when you’re not present in a conversation like that one. I wanted to be there for everyone, but everyone was there for me – trying to protect me from any news that might be inimical to my fight. Though I always want to be fully informed, I am thankful to everyone for sparing me, and giving me every opportunity to stay open-minded.
Finally! My scan results were confirmed “negative” last Friday. Although I still have my abdominal pain, I’m debating returning to my family physician for reassessment. If my scan came out clean, I’m not sure if there’s any advantage to testing the area again so soon. Maybe I’ll wait awhile to see if it subsides. But I promise not to ignore it!