Last week was interesting. I took my friend to a gynecological oncologist for an initial visit for her newly diagnosed endometrial cancer. He (the doctor) decided that my friend could wait a month to discuss surgery on the cancer so she could lose ’50 pounds or so’. 50 pounds??? IN A MONTH? C’mon, doc! Seriously, is that even realistic? Or SAFE???
I do realize surgery is supposed to be harder on someone who weighs more, but I just think his goal is unrealistic. He asked her if she’d ever considered bariatric surgery. Huh? He won’t do the surgery to get rid of cancer but he wants her to have bariatric surgery?
He then proceeds to tell her all about her cancer and how horrible it could be and how it could be a ticking time bomb and could even be spread all over by now. But she must wait a month to see if she can lose 50 pounds before he will even consider doing anything for her.
As much as this all irritated me, I think what irritated me most was the fact he talked down to her. He used huge medical terms without explaining them and spoke quickly so as not to be interrupted. When she actually had the gall to stop him to ask about something, he was exceptionally put out.
She’s checking into second opinions and I’ll most likely be taking her to a new doctor soon. We’re an hour from the closest gynecological oncologists so we have to commit an entire afternoon or morning to this. If she can’t get someone to listen to her there we may have to make the three hour drive to Kansas City or a two hour drive to Tulsa.
I don’t know, this has been a frustrating experience for me and I know it was for my friend. She’s a widowed mom of three and has no insurance. She’s waiting on emergency medicaid, but that can take up to 90 days and she might be denied. Right now friends and acquaintances are working on ways to raise money to get her to doctor visits in the mean time.
This is my rant, and my crusade, to get health care for my friend so she can get this taken care of and go back to doing what she needs to do: take care of her family.
Oh, and by the way, just like breast cancer has pink, uterine cancers have peach, so when you wear peach, say a prayer for my friend.
