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I went to the oncologist yesterday.  Rick went along.  Dr. Oncologist (the guy that I saw four times but he saw it all with regards to my Uterus…and…my Vagina….oh yah and my Cervix too) told me that I am a high risk for female cancers because I have PCOS.  He also told me (and actually looked directly at me while doing so!) that I can go back to Dr. OB/GYN (who is really funny and even he too has been all up in my shiz) and go on Clomid.  Or perhaps he said that Dr. OB/GYN will send me to a Reproductive Endocrinologist.  We shall see on that one.  He said it was up to Dr. OB/GYN but that he would send him a nice professional letter with his ongoing recommendations and treatment.  He closed out our relationship by stating, “we need to get an egg…and some sperm….yah we need that too…in the right place and then you’ll be all good to go!” 

The thing I always liked about Dr. Oncololgist was that when he would tell me what was happening and why and he would repeat his question of “you went to Dr. OB/Gyn wanting a baby…right?”  I would always respond with, “yes but it’s important to me that I am healthy and ok above all else.”  He would then repeat, “Yes but you want a baby.” and he would continue speaking about my file while he looked every where (the ceiling, my file, his hands, my shoes) but at me.

Either way, now that Dr. Oncologist looked right at me and smiled that means I will live.  I’m convinced he doesn’t look at his patients because he’s not sure if the big C is going to take them away and he doesn’t want to get attached.  He shook my hand twice and I thanked him for taking my non-cancerous female parts seriously and helping me.  (you think I didn’t say that?….you’d be wrong!)

Goodbye Dr. Oncologist that doesn’t look directly at possibly dying people, I liked you because you’re smart smart smart and because your staff is awesomely helpful.  (not that Dr. Oncologist will ever read this….because he won’t.  He’s too busy getting smarter.)

So….off to make an appointment with Dr. OB/GYN who has seen my friend’s innards too, but we don’t care because he’s funny and he births him a lot of babies and he will never deliver a cancer diagnosis…so he can always look right at me.

 We’re excitedly reserved.  I am oddly grateful for my experiences from sitting in an oncologist’s office repeatedly looking at plastic girl parts with different stages of plastic cancer attached to them.  It profoundly changed me.  I will never put those waiting room patient faces out of my mind.  Never.  Perhaps the only way to do that is to concentrate on helping and assisting them instead of truly having a forever picture in your head.  I don’t know…..

I feel blessed to have had constant “concern” but additionally constant “negative” pathology reports.