The first thing you need to know is that this story ends well. But you need to keep in mind that I didn’t know that as these events unfolded. I think we need to share these stories because knowledge is power and sometimes things are not at all as they seem.
At a recent doctor visit, among other things my physician told me it was time to schedule a routine mammogram. London’s St. Joseph Health Care happens to have a renowned breast care centre and they are leaders in the field. So I had the mammogram. PAINFUL. The technician told me to wait in waiting room in case the radiologist wanted more pictures. She did, so back into the exam room I went. As I was preparing for round two of the least enjoyable fondling known to womankind I noticed a sheet of paper with my name on it, a little drawing of a woman’s torso and the word “lump”. What would you do? I asked about it.
“Oh your doctor says he felt a lump.”
“He didn’t say anything to me about it.”
“That’s typical. They don’t want to worry the patient. And besides 90 percent of doctor-found lumps turn out to be nothing.”
I was torn between being pissed off with my doctor (I’m a grown woman!) to being grateful that he spared me the worry.
The technician then told me it was their standard procedure to follow the mammogram with an ultrasound but the second test wasn’t booked. Later that day during a phone call to my doctor’s office the nurse on the other line said, “Let me just check your file. Uh-huh. Hmm. Murmur murmur lump murmur.” I actually laughed. If I hadn’t seen the paper in the exam room I likely would have freaked out in that moment.
Finally I got a call on Wednesday from the same nurse. “Lisa”, she said, “Why weren’t you at your appointment on Monday. We’re very worried about you!”.
“What appointment?” I said, trying not to panic.
“You didn’t get notice of your appointment?” she asked.
“No! I’ve been waiting to hear about it! I didn’t know I had an appointment!”
At this point she covered the receiver and I could hear a couple of voices whispering.
She came back on and asked me my last name. I told her.
She said, “Oh, sorry. Wrong Lisa. We’re not worried about YOU!” And she proceeded to give me my appointment details while all I could think was, are you KIDDING me?
On Friday they took more mammy pictures and did an ultrasound. The technician said they had noticed some “dark spots” on the left side that “we just want to make sure are your lymph nodes.” I’ve never given my lymph nodes much thought so I silently asked them to be present and accounted for. The pictures came back clear. The ultrasound came back clear. I was free to go for a couple more years.
My doctor is a good guy. He’s young and thorough and treats me like a human being. I think he had the best of intentions in editing his comments to me but I also think what happened is a perfect example of how that plan can backfire. As far as the nurse mixing me up with someone who is obviously ill and not making her crucial appointments, well, that was just dumb bad luck. Combined it all kept the anxiety meter around the 6.5 mark. Now it’s back down to 1 again and I’m grateful.