C is for “Cancer” Part 5

My boss took matters into her own hands. She prepared a scathing letter, citing several clauses in the medical records act that Dr. W had violated simply by holding my records hostage. She didn’t have to worry about speaking to the jerk; he called her. And just as he’d cursed Dr. B for “stealing” his patient, he tried to curse my boss as well. But she would have none of it. She hung up on him. We faxed the letter to his office shortly after that and miraculously, the records were disgorged. Just in time, on a Friday afternoon, for Dr. B to read them over the weekend in time for surgery on Monday.

One thing Dr. B told me while I was in his office was that sometimes, it doesn’t matter how smart a doctor is. He asked me, “What do you call a doctor who graduated last in his class?” The answer? “Doctor.” Just like you would the same doctor who aced the course.

I went ahead and had the surgery as planned. And unlike with Dr. W who, when I asked him if I could have the surgery at one of the hospitals in the South Texas Medical Center, which was only blocks from my home, told me, arrogantly, “I operate at Xxxxxx Metropolitan and if you want ME to operate, you’ll have the surgery there,” Dr. B had privileges at the South Texas Medical Center so he was more than happy to accomodate me.

Needless to say, the surgery went off without a hitch, I lost a minimum amount of blood (considering that they had to make bikini-cut incision, and that fat, being very vascular, bleeds a lot, I only lost 50 ccs. of blood. And there was no lypmph node involvement. And…. there was no need for chemotherapy or radiation.

He just gave me some PREgmant MARe urINe (unconjugated estrogen) to take to regulate my moods. After I got out of the hospital, I spent several weeks at home recuperating. Robert waited on me hand and foot, did the cleaning, marketing, cooking and laundry. The insurance company even paid for a snazzy, honking hospital bed with a remote control for my recuperation.

I guess all’s well that ends well. Still, I wonder how many patients Dr. W got who mistook him for his brother. And how someone that callous could ever become a medical doctor dealing with human beings. The mind reels.