Sunday, May 28, 2006
Too Much Information!
I'd been asked a number of times by my specialist and the nurse who arranged my pre-admission check through, "Do you have any other questions?" My standard answer, "No."
But I did have one and last week plucked about the courage to ask my doctor. You see I had a reasonable idea of what a catheter is but thought they can't really insert it right up there on a bloke can they, can they?....Yes, they can!
My doctor proceeded to draw me a detailed diagram of what it would be like. I wish I hadn't asked!
I've just had a friend from New Zealand email me and advise "...the better your knowledge then you can engage with your professional at a higher level and get a better and sometimes quicker result." I'm sure it works well in accountancy and law, Deane but not with the medical profession. Not for me anyway.
That ones definately a case of 'too much information!'
But I did have one and last week plucked about the courage to ask my doctor. You see I had a reasonable idea of what a catheter is but thought they can't really insert it right up there on a bloke can they, can they?....Yes, they can!
My doctor proceeded to draw me a detailed diagram of what it would be like. I wish I hadn't asked!
I've just had a friend from New Zealand email me and advise "...the better your knowledge then you can engage with your professional at a higher level and get a better and sometimes quicker result." I'm sure it works well in accountancy and law, Deane but not with the medical profession. Not for me anyway.
That ones definately a case of 'too much information!'
I had no idea
It's now five weeks since my specialist, Mr P, broke the news to my wife Gwen and myself that I had prostate cancer. Given the amount of it that was discovered there seemed to be no alternative to surgery.
My specialist arranged for his receptionist to make the necessary bookings. She proceeded to make a phone call to someone telling them that I was having 'a radical'. A radical? I don't think I've been described as a radical for over 20 years.
Since then, things haven't gone quite as I'd planned. I'd many things to organise to ensure that my business continued with as little disruption as possible to our clients. And I decided that it would be good to keep myself busy by scheduling quite a few training courses with clients that I could run in the intervening period. That would take my mind off the operation and everything that might follow. Seemed like a good idea at the time.
I had no idea just what would be required of me medically in the intervening period. I had to give a pint of blood 3 times one week apart. This is so they could use my blood in the operation. Good idea but I just didn't expect it.
I did wonder if it meant that my specialist was a bit like Doc Martin in the UK TV series. In other words, he was unable to stand the sight of blind and maybe figured if he could remove it all from my veins prior to the op he was less likely to faint at the operating table. Just to help him out, I've been doing my best to fill my veins with Chardonnay rather than Shiraz. Anything I can do to help the surgeon!
Of course, the thing about having a pint of blood removed from you each week is that it does slow you down. A bit of a challenge with the work schedule I'd committed myself to.
And then there were the medical appointments, the additional visits for blood tests and the appointment with my anaesthetist. He sat me down and proceeded to go into the most amazing detail about the two forms of anaesthetic he could use (far more information than I wanted to know). Then he asked which option I wanted to use. Me? I thought he was the specialist, he was the one who'd studied this stuff for five years and practiced it for 30. And he couldn't decide which to use! It's a worry. Now, I'm sure this is because of threats of litigation these days but who was I to choose? My answer, which ever takes away the most pain for the longest period.
Ah well, tomorrows the day. And the main task left on my 'To Do' list is to respond to the amazing numbers of emails people have sent me. I'm only up to the 10th May so I'd better get on with it because I really do want everyone to know how much I've appreciated their kind thoughts...and some of the humour has been great. I'll sign off with a Mark Twain quote sent to me by Paul Wennagel from Esperance:
'Be careful about reading health books. You may die of a misprint.'
My specialist arranged for his receptionist to make the necessary bookings. She proceeded to make a phone call to someone telling them that I was having 'a radical'. A radical? I don't think I've been described as a radical for over 20 years.
Since then, things haven't gone quite as I'd planned. I'd many things to organise to ensure that my business continued with as little disruption as possible to our clients. And I decided that it would be good to keep myself busy by scheduling quite a few training courses with clients that I could run in the intervening period. That would take my mind off the operation and everything that might follow. Seemed like a good idea at the time.
I had no idea just what would be required of me medically in the intervening period. I had to give a pint of blood 3 times one week apart. This is so they could use my blood in the operation. Good idea but I just didn't expect it.
I did wonder if it meant that my specialist was a bit like Doc Martin in the UK TV series. In other words, he was unable to stand the sight of blind and maybe figured if he could remove it all from my veins prior to the op he was less likely to faint at the operating table. Just to help him out, I've been doing my best to fill my veins with Chardonnay rather than Shiraz. Anything I can do to help the surgeon!
Of course, the thing about having a pint of blood removed from you each week is that it does slow you down. A bit of a challenge with the work schedule I'd committed myself to.
And then there were the medical appointments, the additional visits for blood tests and the appointment with my anaesthetist. He sat me down and proceeded to go into the most amazing detail about the two forms of anaesthetic he could use (far more information than I wanted to know). Then he asked which option I wanted to use. Me? I thought he was the specialist, he was the one who'd studied this stuff for five years and practiced it for 30. And he couldn't decide which to use! It's a worry. Now, I'm sure this is because of threats of litigation these days but who was I to choose? My answer, which ever takes away the most pain for the longest period.
Ah well, tomorrows the day. And the main task left on my 'To Do' list is to respond to the amazing numbers of emails people have sent me. I'm only up to the 10th May so I'd better get on with it because I really do want everyone to know how much I've appreciated their kind thoughts...and some of the humour has been great. I'll sign off with a Mark Twain quote sent to me by Paul Wennagel from Esperance:
'Be careful about reading health books. You may die of a misprint.'
Thursday, May 04, 2006
Why Change Specialist?
My previous specialist, unlike his secretary, was a nice fellow with lots of experience and a good reputation. This time though, when it was clear that I needed to be referred to a specialist once again, I asked my doctor to refer me to someone different. Why?
There were four reasons for this.
There were four reasons for this.
- I’d been given my two previous biopsies under a local anaesthetic. No choice. That’s just the way the specialist decided to do it. This wasn't much fun. Like many blokes, I don't have a terribly high pain threshold, especially when I’m lying there having something done to me. I took this up with him after the second biopsy, and he acted surprised. Made out it wasn't a big deal. Made me feel a bit of a wimp. Gwen, who was with me, then asked him if he'd had it done under local. He hadn't been through it himself. I decided that there was no way in the world that I would again have a biopsy under a local. So I either had to confront him on this or go to someone else.
- I knew that if he found cancer he would want me to have surgery. He told me before that this was his recommended option. If that happened, I would have insisted on a second opinion. So it seemed to make sense to get a second opinion first by going to someone else.
- After the second biopsy because of what had been said, I was sure cancer would be found. I’d spent weeks working on myself to try and be brave and so had Gwen. From the time of the biopsy it took me almost 3 weeks to get an appointment with him. There was no contact prior to the appointment, so I assumed the worst. When we got in to see him, with a gracious smile on his face, he informed us that the biopsy had come up clear, as if he was doing us a big favour. Surely he could have shown some empathy for what we were going through. Surely he could have got his receptionist to phone us with the good news as soon as the results were available. Why didn't he? Was he afraid that we would then cancel the appointment and he was lose money for this? We would still have needed a more detailed analysis. I think he'd just been doing what he was doing for too long and had lost the ability to have empathy for his customer.
- The fourth, and the prime reason, I made the change to another specialist was because of his secretary/PA, the bitch from hell. As a customer service consultant, I do a bit of work with medical specialists and notice that quite a few of them employ strong minded, assertive PAs. I can understand this. A lot of them need to be organised, need someone to shield them at times from the demands of their patients, and often need someone to handle the money side of things, because the specialists are too embarrassed doing this with patients themselves. But that doesn't mean they should be able to lord it over their patients, regarding themselves as in charge and their customers as second-class citizens who should do exactly as they say. When I was waiting in the reception area, on a number of occasions, I noticed how she treated people, particularly over the phone. It was not nice. I hate giving my money to people who treat their customers in that way. So, I made sure they didn’t get any more money from me.
