Intense impact

Monday morning Marcus picks up my mother and I at 10.00 am to go to see Professor Wuisman, a guru on the subject of cancer in the spine. I am nervous about what I am about to hear. I am hoping that Professor Lips's slip of the tongue, might not be based on a decision already made.

Professor Wuisman is an extremely straight-forward kind of guy, his directness bordering bluntness.

At first I was trying to figure out if he had already studied the whole of my file as he did not seem to know where to acces my scans and x-rays. He instantly interrupted that train of thought when he told me he had already seen them all and studied my case. He gave it to me straight: "I am going to remove your vertebra (L3)". I was shocked. "So, the Kyphoplasty is not an option?" His response was, "Who told you that? That is nonsense"! I muttered that several specialists had told me it was an option. He was clearly irritated about people trespassing on his terrain. I felt he was not really interested about my mutual feelings. The whole coordination and specialists speaking out of turn was starting to get to me. I need a clear picture whether it is a horrific picture or not. My mind seems to work differently from most other people. Generally people can handle only so much information at a time. I on the other hand make a plan in my head for the next months using that as a tool to be able to space out the consumption of energy and positive thoughts. Now, I had already wasted some of the energy I would need for the 'oh so heavy' operation I was to face this summer.

As I had these thoughts, Professor Wuisman carried on: "We will also replace part of your skull". (The dark spot on top of my head is also a superficial metastase).
I gasped loudly. The information I was getting from this man made me feel like I was being knocked out of the fighting rink, no longer being able to fight back.
I tried to stay rational and asked all the questions that came to my mind. He answered most of them briefly, but most of his answers were followed up by, "When I get back from my holidays I will explain everything in detail". I asked when the operation was due. He made it clear he had no plans of coming back from his holidays early. I did not really see why that was relevant at all, but when I heard that he would be gone the most of the month July I was relieved that I would be getting the time I desired in order to recuperate somewhat. In turn I answered that I had no plans to have the operation in July as my daughter would be turning 8 and that August would be the earliest possible time for me to consider. (I have decided that August 15th would be a perfect date...he shall be informed about this after his holidays).
Strangely enough, this man's directness was precisely what I needed. I had become so confused by Lips' wishy-washy way of informing me. Before leaving the hospital I made sure I got myself a copy of the whole of my file (I have added some x-rays and scans to previous posts.). I went to Lips' secretary and asked for an appointment. I also requested them to have him phone me about the dose of hormones. Subsequently, I made an appointment to see the anesthesiologist about my painkillers so he can re-assess my case. I have new medicines now and I have no idea if they are interacting with each other. Also, the Arcoxia is definately addictive, so I want to know what risks there are in that field. The last thing I did was to discuss with Gerritsen's secretary, Charissa, what to do about the coordination problem. I promised to send an e-mail with all the problems I was encountering.
When Wuisman had left the room I cried out of frustration...now I felt a little like I had gained control over my own life again. At night Lips called me at home to explain how to use the hormone tablets. I told him that he had startled me by coming into my radioactive cell, and that too many specialists were saying different things to me regarding my treatment. He finally seemed to understand that I felt like he was not taking charge. I think he has stepped up to the responsibility now. We shall see...
Marcus drove us home, the rest of the day I was fragile, but my anger had subsided. I was also in great pain. This was a good sign. Maybe the cancer cells were being killed.
On Friday I will find out how well the Iodine has been taken up by the cancer cells. In other words, I will have an indication of how well I responded to the Iodine treatment. I feel tense.