Cancelectomy in Lubbock

 

My aunt picked me up last night to make the trip to Lubbock.  Friends were nice enough to save food and spend some time catching up.  Other friends allowed us to spend the night, avoiding a hotel fee.  

We got up and left in plenty of time to be to the hospital early.  We expected there to be more traffic, but we arrived even earlier than planned.  As we checked in for the first appointment, we were asked to wait in the outside waiting area. "Someone will come get you soon."

We waited and waited and waited.  

All the patients who had arrived after us were getting called in before us.  Just as I was thinking up getting up to ask what was the major problem, a nurse came out to inform us that the major problem involved insurance.  "They were working on approval last night, but still need the final word.  They don't arrive until 7:30." that was still a minute or two away.  After more waiting, we finally heard that the insurance was no longer an issue, and we were led into the inside waiting room.  

I was delivered to my pre-surgical waiting room and instructed to strip down and put on the robe, with the opening to the back.  I freaked out a bit while explaining how much my veins despise needles.  "No matter how good they look, they ALWAYS roll or blow, even before cancer was a thing in my life," which is the same language I use for every nurse who tries to access me without my port.  He actually did an amazing job!  One of the few times in my life that someone actually listened to me and took my advice to heart!

Having all the vitals and blood for the lab and all the questions about drugs and pain and prior surgeries, and all the things I thought were already in my virtual chart, I was given the remote to watch tv, or not, and shown the nurse call button.  We waited and waited, again, for 45 minutes!  Finally, my aunt stepped outside the curtain to ask about when we might hear something more.  All we got was more and more waiting. 

Finally, my nurse returned, but with bad news.  "Someone should have told you to get off of your blood thinner at least for 5 days before today."  Well, no one did.  I was given no instructions other than I had to arrive with nothing to eat or drink, only a sip of water with my medications. (That would have been a PERFECT time for someone to have looked up in my chart to view the drugs that I take and make the assessment in plenty of time to give me the proper instructions.). That elusive 'Someone' could have ordered scans to ensure that it would be safe for me to make those changes and not suffer a possibly life-ending blood clot.  The only pre-procedural call with a possible someone was the night before, so it wouldn't have made a differrence because that was only one night, not 5 days ahead.  I asked about the other procedures for later in the day and was told that they, too, were canceled, as they were dependent on what was discovered in this one.  So, I got dressed again, and got some food and water, STAT!

We did a bit of shopping and then headed home.  It felt like a time-wasted type of day, and I was a bit annoyed that they would waste my time.  Then, about halfway to our destination, a nurse from the radiology department called to ask where I was,  They had been looking for me.  I explained what we had been told about the afternoon being dependent on the morning.  And much was apparent about the lack of communication, all-around.  

It's not like my aunt had to take time off work to drive me, or anything. Or, perhaps I wasn't thinking at all about staying home and checking off another radiation.  What a total waste of time.  Dr. Sun better be ready to hear what I think about all of this.  

Time to just keep on moving and staying alive.  

If only cancer could share all the things I've been through the past decade.  Maybe then someone would understand about communicating all the things and remembering that each patient is unique and needs to be treated as such.