Sorry about the title of this blog but you’ll see how appropriate it is later on.
So I saw the oncologist yesterday and, well, it was an interesting visit. First, I told him about my neuropathies and how my feet are numb and feel swollen and sometimes hurt and he said, “That’s it then, no more Oxaliplatin [the infusion chemo].” He said even if I wanted more treatments he wouldn’t let me have them. That was an answer to prayer because I didn’t want to have to convince him I didn’t want anymore. I knew without his full support to stop the infusion treatments I may wind up second-guessing my decision.
The good news is that the Oxaliplatin is the drug that causes most of my adverse side effects. I can hardly believe I won’t have to deal with the nausea and cold sensitivity and fatigue anymore! And the neuropathies shouldn’t get any worse.
I’ll finish up these last three cycles of chemo on the pill alone (Xeloda).
Then things got really interesting and I learned just what kind of man my oncologist is. He had me lie down on the table so he could check my abdomen and heart and all that good stuff and sometime along the way my ostomy bag came unclipped (unbeknownst to me or him). So when I stood the contents emptied down the front of my pants, on my shoes, and all over the carpet in the exam room.
Yeah, not good. Not good at all. Talk about one of those moments I’ll mention when someone says, “What was your most embarrassing moment ever?”
Now, here’s the clincher. My oncologist, a man who is the cancer guy in York, Pa., probably mid-sixties, very refined, was on his hands and knees wiping the you-know-what off my shoes and scrubbing it out of the carpet with paper towels. He wiped my pants down and even volunteered to go out to my car and get the spare pair of pants I keep there for something just like this.
I kept apologizing, and he kept saying, “Goodness, Micheal, I’m just glad you’re alive, this is nothing. Don’t worry about it at all.”
When we were finished cleaning me up, he looked at me and said, “Michael, it’s moments like these you just have to say, ‘Oh, s__t’.” We both had a much-needed laugh and I went on my way impressed beyond imagination not with what kind of doctor he is, but with what kind of man he is. It takes a humble person to clean the you-know-what off someone else’s shoes.
On a different note, I was reading from Psalm 66 this morning and came upon a verse I just had to mention. Verse 5 says, “Come and see what God has done, how awesome His works in man’s behalf!” I love that.