When I was first diagnosed with breast cancer, I went numb. Then I became confused, overwhelmed, and fearful.
I half heard the pathologist drone on about my biopsy report until the words, “this is a very aggressive cancer. You need to get with an oncologist immediately to start treatment.” I can still hear his words. One minute I was an active, “healthy” woman, the next I am a walking time bomb. So I dutifully followed his charge and blindly picked a name from an oncologist group.
That first appointment was a blur but I do remember him telling me that because I had been diagnosed with an advanced stage he wanted to start with chemotherapy first to see how my tumor would respond. Then he rattled off the name of a treatment protocol, which I had to ask for him to repeat and spell three times. I was told I needed 6 chemo treatments, spaced three weeks apart with MRIs done every two chemos to see how my tumor was responding. I was told they would schedule me immediately to begin treatment. But I asked the question, how do you determine how many treatments I need to have? That is the standard protocol for everyone he said. The results of the periodic MRIs would help determine the length and amount of treatment. But I’m not everyone I thought. I am me, with no one like me in the world.
Well immediately didn’t happen. After two weeks I still didn’t hear from him regarding my start date. Couldn’t be that serious I thought, or they would have made a better attempt to get me scheduled quickly.
It actually was 3 weeks before they started my treatment, but the gift was that I had plenty of time to take my power back and become educated about what I was about to experience. I consulted another oncologist and asked his opinion and lo and behold, he had a different recommendation and treatment plan. Hmmm, now what do I do?
I called my doctor and respectfully asked him to present my case before the rest of their oncologist board, which was a common practice I came to find out. At first he was reluctant saying that three of the other oncologists agreed with him, but then he conceded. He called me after that meeting and said that there had been enough discussion and divided opinions over what would be the best for me, that he said I could make the decision as to which protocol I wanted to go with. The ball was in my court. As I sat quietly by myself after that phone call, I knew that no one really knew what was right for me, except me. And so do you. Become an advocate for your health and treatment plan. Don’t take what is proposed as the gospel. Do your own research. Consult others. Lastly and most importantly, trust yourself.
Let Your Lola Out!
Diane
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Thanks for the inspiration.