On March 22 Dusty had his endoscopy with Dr. Lal. The nurse told me it would be about 30 minutes and not to go far. So, I went to get a cup of coffee and came back. There were two other ladies in the waiting room. Both got there after me and both got called back to see their person before me. After an hour and ten minutes, I started to worry. I rang the doorbell and the nurse came to the door. She said the doctor is getting ready to come get me. So, I waited. Dr. Lal came out and asked me to follow him. I thought it was weird that he came to get me instead of a nurse. There was a large horizontal room to my right with large double door openings. There were three patients in recovery, the last bed was Dusty. I looked at him and tried to vier that way but the doctor told me to follow him. We walked down a long hallway and he asked a nurse what room he could talk to me in private. My heart started to race. I quickly sat down (maybe my knees gave out, not quite sure) and he said, "It doesn't look good." What? What does that mean? I'm so confused. What just happened? How can this be? Is he going to be okay? What does "not look good mean? My mind was going a hundred ways. I'm not sure if the doctor even talked for five minutes. Maybe he was silent because my face said I wasn't there. Not sure? But, I came to and took a breath. He said there was a spot that looked bad and he did a number of biopsies. I asked if he was talking about cancer. He said he couldn't give me that answer yet. I felt hot and faint, took another breath and came back. He said it didn't look good (again). He said, "I've seen worse that wasn't and better that was." I asked what he thought and he wouldn't give me that. I fished as much as I could and he wouldn't bite. I wanted the answer. I needed the answer. I just needed him to say, "I don't think it is cancer." I didn't get that. So, again, I fished. I said, "I mean, can you give me a percentage? Do you think it is 40% cancer, 80% cancer? What is your gut feeling?" NOTHING. I got nothing from him. I know he has to be medically (politically) correct and he was. He didn't want to say the words until we had the biopsy results.
But, don't get me wrong, I love Dr. Lal. He is amazing! Absolutely, amazing. His bedside manner is awesome and he is easy on the eyes :). He is a great doctor. It just made me very frustrated to have the weight of the world bearing down on me and no answers. He put me back into the hallway so he could talk to Dusty. This time walking past that long horizontal room I didn't glance over at Dusty, knowing if we made eye contact I would collapse. In the waiting room I didn't know what to do. I couldn't sit there with other people because I was hysterical. I went through two swinging doors into the service elevator area and hit my knees. I prayed. I prayed so hard it came out of every pore in my body. I just rocked back and forth and begged. Begged for ANYTHING. Give me answers. Help me understand. Make me strong. Heal him. Please God heal him. I asked for everything. I finally composed myself to make a call. Who do I call? Courtney! I called Courtney and told her what the doctor had said. I begged her not to tell anyone. I didn't want to spread the word until we knew the answers.
Now, it was time to face Dusty. I tried to stay strong. I tried to be there for Dusty but inside I felt like the patient, like I needed Dusty to heal me. How was I going to take care of someone that always took care of me? I turned the corner and Dusty gave me the bravest face. He asked me if I was okay. Always taking care of me! I just shook my head, yes. I knew if I opened my mouth I would either scream or vomit.
No comments:
Post a Comment