I'm a Believer

Well, I couldn't get any of the I'm a Believer lyrics to fit what I want to say, but I'm stickin' by the title because yesterday's visit to a new oncologist made me a believer in second opinions.

Where the first oncologist that we saw in February had an office that was beautiful and homey, its parking lot vast and free, this new oncologist who asked to be called Jeff has a sterile office downtown in Hecticville where parking is survival of the fittest.

Where the first oncologist was a pretty good listener and didn't shout Michael out of his office when he heard that Michael is going to do this his own way, Jeff was an excellent listener who also didn't go into convulsions when he heard about Michael's current course of treatment.  Not only did he listen well, he asked good questions about Michael's life - to get to know him as a person.

Where the first oncologist recommended R-CHOP - acting like treatment would be no big deal -and wasn't open to conversation about an adjunct treatment our friend underwent, due to a recommendation from a well-known doctor at Stanford, Jeff gave good reason to do Hyper CVAD, followed by a stem cell transplant.  

Heavy-duty stuff, this treatment plan. 

But Jeff is willing to stay with Watch and Wait for now, since Michael is doing so well. This means that Michael will be seen every two months, in order to monitor things.

Even though there are issues of distance, parking and lack of beautiful feng shui, Jeff wins in my book.  But I might not have known how good he was if we hadn't met with the first doc and if we hadn't had these last six months to learn more and more about MCL and its treatments.  (Jeff also comes with a bit better credentials for dealing with MCL, in my humble opinion.)

I'm intentionally not linking to sites that tell of the ingredients in the treatment plans above.  Today I started reading more about Hyper CVAD, and after a few minutes, I decided that if it (or R-CHOP) was a course of action I was planning on taking, I would have to put away my computer and just dive in to the treatment, completely enveloped in trust in the doctors and All-That-Is-Bigger-Than-Me.

Last night, I told Michael what an honor it is to be traveling this road with him.  Easy for me to say, I know.  I am not the one who at this time has the diagnosis, the current regimens governing my life, and the view of potential treatments lurking up ahead. I get to have my own challenges.  And those challenges are pushing me to change and open my heart more and more.  It's very uncomfortable.  But it's kind of awe-inspiring, too.

I'm in love, oooooh, I'm a believer!
Yeah yeah yeah yeah