I Hope Nobody Else Gets This Slap In The Face Ever Again

Author's Note: Get this story out to people. I hope to help make sure this doesn't happen to anyone else.

Have you ever been slapped in the face? It sometimes happens. Sometimes, it feels like life slaps you. It happens, and that’s part of adulthood. Most of the time, you get back up and move forward.

What if you can’t move forward? Imagine you’re slapped in the face by someone you depend on.

I’m talking about the metaphorical slap in the face. The times when circumstances go against you, and there’s no articulable reason why. Some of us physically have been slapped. We’ll tell you, sometimes the metaphorical slap hurts the worst.

On or about February 17th, I received the results of a blood test. The test was a PSA test. It’s the blood test used to check for warning signs of prostate cancer. Four or less is healthy. My score was 329.8.

Seeing the score, I immediately called my doctor’s office. They hadn’t read the test results. When they did, I was scheduled for an appointment that week.

The physician’s assistant under my doctor admitted it meant I had cancer. He couldn’t say much else and admitted as much. My doctor’s office referred me to a Urologist.

I went to see a Urologist. There aren’t any in my town. I drove to another city to see one. From there, the story goes downhill.

April 8th, 2024: The First Slap In The Face

I was scheduled to have a biopsy. It was a big and important day. The biopsy is the first big step to accurately diagnosing cancer. They take the samples and test them to see how aggressive your cancer is.

I showed up and went to an exam room. Maybe it’s just dumb luck, or it’s living in an area that’s not Chicago or New York, or it was an example of unprofessionalism. One way or another, I drew the short straw.

The nurse hands me forms and tells me to “sign here” for the procedure. I read the sentence right above the signature spot. It says, “I’ve been allowed to ask any questions I had.”

I had five questions for the doctor. I told the nurse, “I’ve got a few questions I haven’t been given a chance to ask the doctor.”

She sat there and stared at me, so I repeated the statement. Her response was unsettling.

“Well, you can either sign it or cancel your procedure and make another appointment to talk to the doctor.”

I told her the doctor could answer the questions in five minutes or less. I then went into my questions, which were simple and covered things that weren’t disclosed about the procedure before the day of the procedure.

As an example, one of the questions was about the 50-pound weight-lifting restriction and the form indicating it was for seven days. I had taken one day off for the biopsy, having been told that I only had to take it easy the day of.

Another example was the statement on the form that read, “You have cancer, but this procedure may not find your cancer.” That wasn’t disclosed before I arrived that day, and I was about to take twelve needles into an internal organ, for lack of a better word.

After explaining my questions and why I thought they were fair, the nurse reiterated, “You can cancel the procedure and make an appointment to come in and talk to the doctor.”

So I sat there, waiting for her to say something, and she just stared at me. So, I have a nurse repeatedly suggesting that I postpone a biopsy for cancer instead of being willing to tell the doctor that I had some concerns before I signed the paperwork. She made it clear I wasn’t going to get to talk to the doctor before the procedure and that I wasn’t going to get anywhere without signing the paperwork and signing to the fact I had been allowed to address my concerns.

After several more minutes of her staring at me with a scowl, I relented and told her I wasn’t signing the papers without talking to the doctor. She stood up and announced she’d take me up to reschedule with the doctor to talk to him at a later date.

It took two weeks to get a ten-minute sit down with the doctor, and when asked the questions, admitted they were fair. Then, he rescheduled the biopsy for May 9th.

The biopsy would come back, and I would learn the samples were 8s, 9s, and 10s on the Gleason scale.

May 31st: The Biggest Slap In The Face

On May 29th, I went in for a CT with contrast and a bone scan. I’m long past being unnerved by the process. It’s been over three months since being told I have cancer, and I’ve still not been sent to an oncologist.

The first scan was done in the morning. The second in the afternoon. By lunch, the My Chart system was updated and showed a new test result. I sat in the waiting room, stunned and shocked by what the first test indicated.

The second round was done by 2:45, and I left the hospital, admittedly still spooked by the first round results. By 3:45, my My Chart account indicated an additional test result was ready.

While I expected my doctor to call me with the results, and he’d indicated he would call by Friday, I was now sitting with the knowledge that I had cancer not only in the prostate but in my femur, my pelvis, my kidneys, my bladder, my spleen, my liver, my spine, and my rib cage.

Three and a half months have passed as of Thursday morning, and for three and a half months, this cancer has been something my care providers knew about.

On Thursday, nobody called. Not being a doctor, I was certain the scan reports indicated my situation was grim. Growing weary of waiting, I called my primary care doctor and spoke with a nurse. I advised her of what was going on and that I wasn’t getting anywhere trying to call the urologist. She looked at the reports I referenced and very somberly said she was sorry and she’d get word to my provider to look at the reports and call me. Thirty minutes later, my provider called. After a discussion with him about the tests done under the urologist, he pushed to refer me to a cancer center.

What should never happen is what happened here. The urologist who ordered the biopsy and the scans has yet to call me. If not for taking aggressive action on my own and pushing my care provider to get involved I’d still not have anything scheduled or moving forward toward cancer treatment.

Takeaways

Cancer is perhaps the scariest diagnosis one can get. The amount of time it’s taken to get to the point I’m at feels extensive. However, when requiring medical diagnosis and treatment for such a dreaded disease, we should be able to count on our care providers to take appropriate and timely action.

I’ve been slapped in the face twice. The nurse not being willing to tell the doctor I had a few questions and repeatedly told me my only option was to sign the paperwork, which would have been a false statement that I’d been given a chance to ask my questions or postpone my biopsy, was a slap in the face. The unprofessionalism she showed that day was unbelievable.

The second time was when the doctor ordering the tests failed to follow up with me on the results and suggestions for who to see for a treatment plan.

As a patient, facing an incredible health challenge, our job should be to focus on caring for ourselves. The fact that I had to push for someone to get me to a cancer doctor, and push a doctor other than the one that ordered the diagnostic testing, seems unreal. But it is, and that’s what I want to share with you all.

When it comes to medical care, we’re clients, not patients. We deserve more from our medical providers than for them to half-ass things, particularly when the diagnosis could likely kill you the longer you go without a proper course of treatment. Don’t be afraid to raise your voice. Throw a tantrum if you have to. But above all else, if you’re ever in a situation like this, demand that someone does something and demand it from every single person who might be able to help.