Meet Dr Canada

This blog is for Lulu, who wanted to hear about my day.

Dad and I went to the Cancer Centre at the local hospital this afternoon. Fancy! This place is far more airy, comfortable and simply nicer looking than what I’ve been used to visiting. Mind you, I have no complaints toward the NHS service in England, but first impressions with the Canadian version are quite positive.

Arriving at the hospital we were shown into a consultation room. My height and weight were taken, followed by a quick chat with the nurse. She gave me some emergency contact details and arranged for my blood to be taken. It’s so funny hearing the Canadian accent, which on one hand sounds perfectly normal, but on the other hand so incredibly different. I suppose this is my first Canadian nurse. Anyhow, she was very friendly.

Next came in my Canadian Oncologist. Funny, I had expected an older and smaller man – nope, Dr Canada is tall and impressive. Again he oozed confidence, but also has this hard to describe sensitivity. I can feel that he cares.  We went over my situation and he provided his perspective on several interesting matters (eg. ovary suppression vs tamoxifan, genetic testing, MRI vs mammogram), so that was interesting. He then checked my chest – said it felt okay, and ordered two weeks worth of chemo.

I often feel paranoid about my chest – like, near daily self-inspection type paranoid. Chances are other breast cancer survivors feel a similar anxiety. It’s hard to trust your body again after it betrays you in this way. There is the fear of cancer returning, though when the doctor quotes a 50/50 prognosis, no wonder there’s fear. And fear and hope. Depends on the day/hour you ask me.

Anyhow, I feel confident in my Canadian oncologist, and when I come back to Ottawa will most certainly reach out to him again.

After our meeting I went up to the chemo lounge (whoa – still so fancy) and had a blood test, following which we loaded into the car and crawled our way home along the 417. I was nearly sick to my stomach by the time we finally pulled into the driveway. Night driving needs to be removed from the menu; doesn’t sit well with my stomach.

So there we go. That was today. Tomorrow will be another something, but I probably won’t write about it immediately . . .  we’ll see.

In any case, I think things will be fine. Fingers crossed. TWO MORE LEFT!!