Dr. MaryJane Speaks

Thursday was my first post-treatment meeting with Dr. MaryJane. The meeting was surprisingly short; only 12 minutes from start to finish. How do I know this? Because I looked at the clock when we started and when we finished. That is the only reason. It felt like 45 minutes. It was packed. Only a few days later, the details aren't clear to me anymore, but the substance is.

Dr. MaryJane was warm, compassionate and very attached. We talked a lot about how I am doing, how I managed the treatment. As we spoke I came to realize that treatment was okay until the GI stuff happened. A month spent in pain, unsure if eating would make me sick or not, took the wind out of my sails. Add that to third degree burns, and yea, I lost my spark. Dr. MaryJane looked at me and said "We have done everything to you. Your body has been through so much. It is the hardest thing you have ever had to go through." [Aside: This isn't actually the hardest thing I have lived through, but it is the hardest thing that my body has been through.]

Dr. MaryJane then inspected my incisions and proclaimed herself pleased with both her work and my healing. The radiation bound up my arm/node area again, and so we discussed new massages that I can do in the shower and with lotion.

We finished our meeting with some additional chit-chat. And then we were done. She told me to make an appointment in June for my first post-diagnosis mammogram coupled with an appointment with her so we can review the mammogram together. We were done. Dr. MaryJane then came towards me, gave me a hug, a kiss on the cheek, and walked out the door. _GASP_ _Wow_ Where did that come from? I sat down in the chair and sobbed. Again, these people, these people who care for hundreds of sick people each year, many of whom are much sicker than I am, care. They care deeply.

I stopped by the front desk to schedule my mammogram and appointment. "Nope, no preference as to the date," I stated. So she clicked away on the computer. "Oh," I said. "I don't want to have this mammogram on the anniversary of my diagnosis." The young woman looked sympathetic while asking what date that would be. "June 13th," I replied. Guess what date she was signing me up for? We moved it to the 20th.

This is the end of treatment. The only two strings left are a follow up with the radiation oncologist at the end of January to check my burns and the outstanding genetic test. That is it! This is end of treatment.