Roller Coaster Ride

Tuesday was not a good day for me.  I received a call early that morning from Linda, she works with Dr. Brillant, the lead surgeon, and handles his scheduling.  "The surgery date has been rescheduled for February 26th", she said.  WHAT? No, that can't be!  This wagon is already in motion, everyone agreed, we have already signed papers!  She understood my confusion and frustration and suggested I call Dr. Sharts, he was the doctor that requested the change and since he plays such a pivotal role in my surgery, and has the most demanding schedule, he has to make that change.

I hung up the phone and tears rolled down my face.  I have been focused on January 29th, that was the date.  People have been contacted, plane flights have been made. But even more important, would the extra time allow the tumor to grow.  I felt like I had just been given a death sentence.

The phone rang at Dr. Sharts' office, but their answering service picked up. I kept trying.  Finally, after speaking with Christa and Melissa, I spoke with Jenny, she works with the surgery schedule.  "Nothing can be done," she said, "Dr. Sharts made the decision.  He had a situation arise to cause the change and nothing can be done.  February 26th was the next date he had available.  He is very aware of your situation."  I tried to make her understand this couldn't be changed, but realized I had hit a brick wall, she was just the messenger and could do nothing for me.

I called Linda at Dr. Brillant's office and told her I wasn't able to get any changes made either.  She was very apologetic.  "Please have Dr. Brillant call him," I pleaded, " maybe he can intercede, we have to do something."  I was scared.  She told me she would have Dr. Brillant call me with any information, but it would probably be the next day, he was in surgery and we hung up the phone.

After a few minutes of anguish and tears, I sat back and assessed my situation.  Would the extra time be a bad thing?  Maybe I was seeing ghosts that really aren't there. I needed to speak with my oncologist. I called Dr. Mahajan's office and asked to speak with him or his nurse, Austin.  Austin called me back in a few minutes and I explained my pitiful plight. She was very understanding and said she would speak with the doctor.  I had an appointment with him the next day, but I couldn't wait.

The phone rang in about 30 minutes.  It was Austin, she told me Dr. Mahajan would discuss it with me the next day, but not to worry, it probably would not make a difference.  By this time, my hissy fit, tears, and feeling that I had lost control of my situation, were starting to seem more manageable.  Maybe the extra few weeks wouldn't kill me.  And besides, it looked as if there was nothing I could do to change it.

I was okay until John came home for lunch and I had to tell him.  All the frustration came rolling out again.  He hugged me and said it appeared I had done everything I could do.  We'll just have to talk to Dr. Mahajan before we can run around yelling, "the sky is falling".

What will Dr. Mahajan say?

PCQ