Dr. Fine, Dr. Howard, Dr. Fine

Robin calls while I am in my second meeting of the day. Tells me Dr. Madre is leaving the country today but has my chart with him and will call me while he travels. Expect a call before lunch.

HIPAA, Schmipaa, I guess. So much for keeping my health information under lock and key. Our friends in the Transportation Safety Administration and perhaps everyone at the X-Ray machine will be privy to my ovarian woes by lunch time.

But this is no time to be bashful about my tender little girly parts. I am on a mission.

I get the feeling she thinks I think she made more of the situation than necessary. Or maybe Dr. Madre thinks that. A mountain out of a mole hill. A tempest in a tea cup. Ran around screaming that the sky is falling.

No. I think the opposite. I think what passes as a routine occurrence in Robin's world really is a Big Fat Deal in mine and that I have a right to be upset. It is my uterus, cervix and ovaries on the bullseye. Am I not a dream patient? Taking ownership and responsibility for my health? Isn't an informed consumer better than one that you can't be sure is informed enough to provide informed consent for anything?

Hours go by and no word from Dr. Madre. I have convinced myself that he forgot all about me and boarded his plane and now it has taken off and he's realized that he stowed my chart in his checked suitcase and he can't get it until he lands on the other side of the planet. Or he gets no phone service over the Atlantic. Or he just forgot altogether.

I call Robin later in the afternoon. She assures me that Dr. Madre is still in the country, and apologizes for the delay. He is not departing until tonight but is in clinicals all day in an outlying office. She gives me the low down on how to reach him and who to ask for that will get him on the phone. Robin knows the ropes.

I am relieved to the point of crying when I get him on the phone. He tells me he thinks that Robin may not have done a great job explaining. I told him she explained just fine what she was comfortable explaining with without him being there, in my opinion, but I am one of THOSE patients. I need details. Information. Titles. I want to know the names of things and the rationale for what he wants to do. Robin could in no way answer my questions. Not her fault. But now that I have you...

"Liza, I know this about you," he says. "There are some cells I think may be the cause of your abnormal lab results. I want to make sure we stay on top of things. You can come see me every three months so I can look to see where they are going or you can have the blahblahblah procedure and be done with it in one shot."

"OK but you scared me when you said that you wanted me back every 3 months. What happened to 6?"

"Liza, you are a very compliant patient. Any other patient I would tell to get the blahblahblah procedure because I may never see them again. But you take care of yourself and I know you'll be back, so if you want to do something less invasive until we know more, I know you are not going to vanish and never return and maybe put yourself at risk."

I ask about the procedure. It sounds heinous but he says he'll lidocaine me to the hilt before hand. He says then I never have to think about it again.

I ask about the one part of the last test that he'd been concerned about. He tells me if that is not resolved, then he'll take care of that with the blahblahblah procedure too. Everything else is fine. Great results. No other worries.

I tell him I want the blahblahblah thing. I want it taken care of now and forever. I remind him that he knows what I worry about.

"Yes I know what you worry about. Liza, you do not have Cancer. You are not going to develop Cancer while I am in Africa. I know your concerns. Your children have nothing to worry about. Their mother is not going anywhere."

I absolutely love this man for having been listening all along last time.

I tell him I will call Robin and schedule myself for the week he returns. I wish him much success on his mission. I hang up. I close my door. And then I really cry. But only out of sheer relief.