So I haul along my friend for these multitude of appointments and insist on paying her for her services as it is a huge chunk of time (often 3 hours for a 10 minute appointment) out of her life and she has to play hunt the parking spot and hunt the wheelchair as, seriously, the walking through the sprawl has to be seen to be believed and impossible for me and George, my cane, to manage.
So it was there, as I was finally in the waiting room, I said to her: "Why in the name of the goddess am I putting myself through all these consults and tests and evaluations? I am completely stressed out and hello quality of life?"
Now I hasten to add cancer is not on anyone's radar, so I am free to say that. Cancer would be another story entirely.
So I saw the new consult, who is added to the team of my healthcare. Which I am so grateful for and all effing free (sorry USA). He is a surgeon charged with managing my anemia. I liked him immediately.
I told him about my conversation in the waiting room and he then proceeded to review what he would have to do to my body to find the causes of this failing blood and tiredness issue.
Dear gawd, I said to him:
"Lights down the stomach, lights up the bowels and like you mention, odds of nicking something, slim though they are. I will be 77 in August. I am stressed just sitting in your waiting room and evaluating all these appointments and my life taken over by monthly visits to each of my team not to mention blood draws and lung xrays. And I beg the question why? What is it doing for me in the long run?"
"You know," he responded, "I can't advise you on this decision, only you can do that. But I can tell you I hear you. And if I was facing 77 I would want to enjoy myself too and not have to worry about procedures like these. I'll let your GP know what we talked about. And try and eat really healthily. It might improve your blood readings, they are pretty dismal."