Written September 20, 2009

I met my hematologist/medical oncologist Thursday morning.  Wow!  If I were cancer and I knew that she was going to be my foe, I would pack my bags and skedaddle post-haste.  (Let’s just hope my particular brand of lymphoma is equally sensible.)

Dr. L. is a force to be reckoned with, fighting mightily for her patients.  Don’t get me wrong — she is kind and patient and all the things you would hope for.  It’s just that she also radiates competence, intelligence and power.  She appears to have an over-abundance of energy and talent.  I feel like I have a super-hero in charge of my treatment.  How cool is that?!

Even before I met her, Dr. L. had referred me for this program, requested that test, etc.  She requested a myriad of tests to stage the cancer, get a base-line because one of the meds in my chemo regimen can be cardio-toxic, and generally get me ready to start chemo on Wednesday.

Unfortunately, all the various tests and scans are being done on an urgent basis.  That has led, rather precipitously, to the red tape blues.  It seems that while the cancer clinic is highly organized, some other parts of the hospital are not.  I have had appointment times moved with no notice, been sent on a wild goose chase all over the hospital when no one could figure out where I was supposed to be, been left in a waiting room for outrageously long because the receptionist neglected to enter my presence into the computer, etc., etc. ad nauseum.

To my knowledge, I have only one scan left, as well as the bone marrow biopsy that will be performed by Dr. L. herself.  I will be so happy to be done!  I am sure there will be tests and scans along the way to monitor my progress.  I am hoping the fact that they are not being requested urgently will make things a little more predictable.