FCKuCANCER.

so yeah, today was the long-awaited second opinion. and as expected it was a lot to take in.

first, let’s back up a bit, last friday i woke up with one of my piercings inflamed. like seriously, my ear was so puffy i couldn’t even see the stud. fun times. i had to rush-book an appointment with my piercer so he could remove the stud, and swap it out for a longer bar. pretty ridiculously long actually, but we both wanted to make sure the ear had plenty of space to finish going through whatever it needed to. did i mention that the piercing is at least 2 years old? nothing makes sense with my body lately. everything is going to shit.

ah well. the entire ordeal was painful, but really, i’m used to being poked and prodded as of late so i just sat back and took it like a girl. heh. 🙂

ok, back to why you’re here…the second opinion. so first, the facility is actually closer than my current doctor. i pass it on the way to my doctor’s office. i got there really early…nerves i guess. anywho i saw a very tall man walk in with a maga’agin mask so not a good sign. time fastly approaches so i get out my car and walk in. first. you can smell the money that this organization has. it’s abundantly clear that we aren’t in kansas anymore.

as soon as i hit the little inbetween lobby, i dont know what it’s really called, but the little area that’s in the sliding doors, but before walking through the second set of doors into the real lobby — there was a woman passing out masks. i politely reminded her that i already had on a mask, and she was like nope…i gotta wear their masks. see, money. i get it tho, folks are wearing the same mask over and over again without cleaning or getting a new one, so, makes sense.

anywho, once i get in the real lobby, i had to stand in what basically looked like a makeshift tsa line. as i stand in line i take in my surroundings. the lobby is large and open. right as you enter the doors there was a sign – you would miss it if you weren’t paying attention – but basically, there is no rigamorole of temperature checks here…once you entered the doors your body was automatically thermoscanned. i assume if you are over temperature lights would flash, bells would ring, and you would be tackled by security to prevent you from taking another step. i must’ve passed. now it’s time to take in the line…i fully expected to have to remove shoes, empty pockets, and go through metal detectors. but, it wasn’t that intense. it was really just two temporary ticket booth looking structures, plexi-glassed out. the person checks you in, looks at your id and tells you where to go.

because it’s my first visit i have to go through their registration process. along the back wall of the lobby sits little seating areas in front of numbered doors. like very large numbered doors. the woman who checked me in told me which number to sit in front of. i might have had 7, i don’t recall now. so i go and sit down and wait. didn’t wait long, the woman who i have been talking to on the phone for the past few weeks, you know the one who had the job of telling me my appt was pushed back, approaches me and ushers me in her office. the office is plain, but fancy. the walls are all dry-erasable. one side has large flowers and i think the ensignia of the facility. her desk has the usual computer monitors and pen pad and camera set-up that all the doctors offices have these days…only these are large and again, smell like money. pushed to the side behind her monitors is like a fancy fingerprint scanner, so i ask her what it does. she proceeds to explain that pre-covid, in addition to taking your picture, they scan your palm. this is apparently more precise than scanning your fingers and that is how you would check-in. there were kiosks all over that you could scan your palm and let your doctors know you were in. see. major mula over here.

anywho, she checks me in, i sign all the usual disclosures and she gives me their version of the welcome to cancer packet. it is, as expected, fancy shmancy. it’s a large folder, with big, heavy, glossy pages. it is a cancer workbook. walking you through cancer diagnoses and what questions to ask your doctor if you are overwhelmed, spaces to write notes and answers. like the whole sha-bang. now i got one of these at the other facility. it was a small book and had basically the same info, just you know the scale of this one was on steroids. now im telling you about this book because one page i found fascinating. the page shows every possible employee and what they wear. i had no idea that the colors mattered, but it does, at least there…i thought it was so cool. i have never given it any thought. i assumed ppl wore the scrubs they wanted.

ok so now that i was registered, she escorted me to the next floor where i would be meeting my doctor. and let me tell you it was different. it was like you are checking into a hotel. this is another huge lobby. there is a long desk with about 4 or 5 ppl checking you in. this floor is large. there is a cafe to the left, the check-in desk is to the right and straight ahead is another long wide hallway with doors on both sides. the doors on the right have super large letters this time, and there are seating arrangements in front of each door. the staff at check-in tells you which door to to sit in front of and then you wait. i didn’t wait long before my name was called.

so this is the part that i found odd. once you’re behind the door, you find out that all of those doors really lead to the same thing. it’s a series of hallways and corridors filled to the brim with exam rooms. like literally just exam rooms for as far as the eyes can see, in every direction. and they were all the same. i found it jarring. no staff, other than the person who called you. and they walk you to “your exam room” and do the normal doctor things. temperature, medical history, blood pressure, height weight…normal stuff. then the doctor comes in and the real appointment begins.

so my doctor was male. never really been keen on male doctors, unless they are dentists so coming in i was already a bit weirded out. but i knew it and had made my peace with it. this was also the first, first appointment that i had to go to by myself. sal and elena were on the phone tho. so that helped my anxiety.

i actually liked him. he was very nice, and had definitely done his homework about my case. i had already dropped my images off to them weeks ago, so he had access to everything. first and foremost, this institution is where you go to if you have cancer. like its the best and the only reason i didn’t go there first is because i was comfortable with my network of doctors. and also i thought i would have to go to the medical center…and the medical center is a zoo, imo and i try to avoid it unless i really have to go.

the doctor was really good about explaining things. he answered all of our questions, and reaffirmed that the treatment plan i was on is the standard. he reiterated that my treatment at this point would be the same no matter where i went. he said that it starts making a difference if i have a rare cancer or after i have exhausted the recommended plans. that’s when they come into play because they have access to more medical trials since they are so big, and so world renown.

the details…there are only two things he would’ve done differently. one – he wouldn’t have gone through with the chemo at all. he said basically a cancer diagnosis is like running a race. when you catch it early, you do chemo to race to stop the spread, then surgery to remove, then radiation to kill what you didn’t. i missed that race. i am now running a marathon. the cancer has already spread throughout my body. now we just have to try and slow the spread down, kill what we can, and maintain my quality of life. — yeah, i know. not what we want to hear, but it is what it is at this point. two – he would’ve done one more biopsy. this time of the cancer in my bones. just to be double sure we are dealing with the same cancer. he said it’s most likely the same, but he would’ve done one anyway.

we discussed my treatment plan ad nauseam. and we learned more.

one – i had actually fractured my spine. yup, you read that right. and here’s the thing, no one had ever used that word before. so that was heavy. the other thing is, after that appointment, my current oncologist said it too. but she had never said it before.

two – there are like 3 pill regimens right now for mbc (metastatic breast cancer) that has spread to bone. you basically take them for as long as they do their job. then you move to the next one. then you move to the last one. then it’s time for chemo and trials. those are the last resorts. some people blow through the pill regimens quickly, most do not. the one i’m on now, people tend to be on for an average of two years. could be more, could be less.

three – surgery isn’t a recommended option for me. the pills should also work at shrinking the tumors in my breast, even though they are really targeting the cancer in my bones. the old way of doing things was to attack both — surgery for the tumors, pills for the rest. but the studies have shown that approach to not really give you any benefit and some times could cause more trouble than its worth. if i have surgery and then develop infection, which happens – compromised immunity and whatnot – then the time spent treating the infection is time spent not taking the meds for the bone and it becomes a catch-22. he said that if the pills work really well, and i go into remission, then maybe surgery can get back on the table.

four – (this one i knew – but no one really wanted to believe it) i have mbc. there is no real cure for it. even if i go into remission, the cancer is most likely going to pop up some where else. it’s just what we are dealing with now. so the “goal” is to stop the spread and maintain.

five – i have to be super careful about breaking bones now. the pills target the cancer in my bones, so my bones are not as strong. i take that xgeva shot monthly to help. and he suggested i also take calcium. so i am. he said i could even break something by picking up a child, so that was a whoa for me. that’s probably going to be the most difficult to deal with. i am an only child. i was the first person i knew with divorced parents. when my mom and i moved to atlanta, daddy gave me his hammer. like i don’t know how to just stop and not do.

six – diet. so right now i don’t really have an appetite. i eat to take the pills. and what i eat isn’t always the best choices. he said i need to eat whole foods. specifically used the words “nothing on a charcuterie board”. like my heart sank. most of my go-to’s are on that damned board. ugh. so yeah, also he essentially told me i needed to be a vegetarian. limit this, limit that. it was not good news, but ok, i’ll try. a nutritionist will be calling to discuss further. yay.

wow. this is a long post. i think that’s everything from the appointment. what happened next is seriously the only reason i haven’t switched doctors. once the appointment was over. like it was over, over. no one came back to the room to walk me out. i got dressed and opened the door expecting someone to be on the other side. nope. nada. nothing. i was in that plaza of exam rooms and, thankfully, i was in the same hallway as the door i came in through. it was just bizarre. and left a cold sterile feeling. i did not like that. and it was so unexpected. it was the biggest difference between my current doctors office and this one. all of the people at both are very friendly and accommodating. but that made me feel like a cog in a factory.

so yeah, i haven’t done the switch. and really i don’t have to. they said once a patient, always a patient, i can always make an appointment, or ask questions and all that. i mean insurance is insurance and i have it so money is green, and taken every where.

i have much more to say…but im tired. laters taters. also i am not proofreading this. so be like your president and move smooth past any mistakes. they didn’t happen.