Seeing Red!

About 10 days ago, I received a letter from the Northeast Regional Cancer Institute asking me to participate in a research project. Because of my cancer diagnosis of colon cancer, and the fact that my area has a 27% higher incidence of this cancer than the rest of the commonwealth. They are attempting to determine the reason for this increase so as to prevent it in the future. I immediately returned the signed consent form indicating that I agreed to participate. An appointment was scheduled for me to be interviewed, and meantime, I was asked to fill out a survey of my dietary habits in the year prior to my diagnosis. The survey was pretty heavy on low fat vs. full fat, sugars, carbs, red meats, salty snacks and all the other foods that really aren't optimally nutritious.

Yesterday, I went to the appointment as scheduled, and met with a delightful woman who questioned me on other aspects of my life that may or may not have contributed to my cancer. The appointment lasted about an hour, during which she took a sample of my DNA for genetic testing, which consisted of the scraping of the inside of the cheeks and the tongue, just like on TV.

In the course of the conversation, she told me that the institute was grateful to me for agreeing to participate in the study, since they had a difficult time getting people to do so. People who, like me, carried a diagnosis of colorectal cancer. Refusing to participate in a study to try to determine causative factors. Which might possibly help future generations if discovered. I am furious. I am so furious I could spit. How can anyone deny my children and my grandchildren and their children the possibility of seeing this scourge eradicated in their lifetime?

What could conceivably be reason enough to say, "No" to this endeavor? What would possess a person to forget the chill of hearing their diagnosis so to inflict that chill on those to come after?

For a lousy hour and a half (the food survey took about 30 minutes) it is possible to be the link in the chain that discovers the reason for the tumors that grow in the dark, unseen even as they erode the gut and spread to places where they can't be removed. God preserve us and protect us from such selfishness.

I Do So Have a Heart!

Yesterday, I had my six-month check-up with my cardiologist. I go to see him to make sure my aorta/pig valve is still oinking along. Apparently, it is, because he tells me it is. Not being an expert in the field, I take his word for it. And I don't have to go back for six months.

The other members of the health care team are all on a three month schedule and it seems like I should be able to stretch that out by now. If I had a rash, or some big old ugly festering sore that needed to be looked at and treated, I'd be happy to go as often as requested. But everything that I'm being checked for is on the inside and not visible to the naked eye. My office visits could pretty much be accomplished with a 'phone call.

"Joan? This is Dr. Whooziz. How are you feeling?"

"Doing well, Dr."

"Are you exercising regularly?"

"Well, not as regularly as you'd like, but I get around okay."

"Are you maintaining a healthy weight?"

"I've actually lost two pounds since we spoke last."

"That's good. No chest pain? No palpitations? S.O.B.?"
(No, he didn't call me a bad name, that means shortness of breath)

"No, none of the above Dr. Things are fine, I think."

"Okay, Joan. If you have any questions, save them for our next chat."

Now, I'd have pretty much the same conversation(s) with Dr. Whatzis and Dr. CutUp.

Of course, there remains the matter of the fee - or no fee. No office visit means no $$. So, I go to the office every three months, and we have basically the same conversation. The only difference is they get to bill my insurance, and I write out a check for my co-pay.

Oh, yeah, and I don't get to lie about losing two pounds.

Good for Another 3,000 Miles

It's been well-documented that I had cancer. I had surgery to get it out. I had chemo to keep it out. And now we have the follow-up stuff to make sure it stays out.

So on Wednesday, I finally got around to having the colonoscopy that I was supposed to have on the 17th. of Feb., except I got sick and couldn't have it. I did blog about it if you really want to know the sordid details. Suffice it to say here, I had the same reaction to the Bisacodyl that ocurred during the previous prep. The headache, the nausea. Undaunted, I refused to puke and I struggled the liquid down,
(yuk) and did what I had to do. I was not going to postpone this again.

Showed up at the Endoscopy Center as scheduled, checked in, had the scope with no complications, and when I woke up, the nice lady gave me a nice cup of coffee and two nice cookies, and I felt lots better.

Learned that there was a polyp which was removed and sent to pathology. Also, there was a hemorrhoid! I thought Dr Saeed got them all in January. He's not getting this one!

Had a nice breakfast, went to Fifth St. and hung out with the kids. Came home to a really good night's sleep.

On Friday, I got a call that the pathology was back and the polyp was benign. Until I heard the word, I wasn't ready to admit that I was apprehensive about the results. Funny. I really felt that the veil lifted. After a year of uncertainty.

But my sense of well-being was not to last very long. Because this is the week-end of the time change. Anyone who knows me knows my feelings about this bi-annual lunacy. Take daylight off the front of the day and put it on the back of the day. For nine months. Who decides these things? So now, the kid next door leaves for school in the dark. Maybe only for a few weeks, but what the hell? Why should he have to? When this was an agrarian society, it was nice that the farmers still had a little daylight at the end of his work day. Of course, most days, he was too tired to stay awake to enjoy it. So now, people can continue the frenetic pace late in the day. For what?

It is a tradition which has out-lived any usefulness. And I'm not sure it should even matter to me. The polyp was benign.