Medical Duct Tape

I just had my 7 week checkup with Dr. Bouvet at the Rebecca and John Moores Cancer Center, the latest addition to UCSD's state-of-the-art medical facilities. Cancer is a daunting word; we all know someone who has tangled with cancer, not always successfully. We all dread the thought of experiencing it first hand, and so any facility with the tag "Cancer Center" tends to be the kind of place we try to avoid.

(This reminds me of the beginning of this experience. Last June, just before I had my annual physical, I started having some mild, but definite, problems with swallowing. I thought at the time, "what if this is some horrible cancer?" When the endoscopy indicated that I had erosive esophagitis, I was actually relieved, because we knew the problem swallowing was caused by something more benign and treatable. That relief was short-lived, as we soon discovered that I did indeed have some horrible cancer—it just wasn't causing that particular symptom!)

The first time I visited the Cancer Center, it was a surreal experience. "I don't belong here." It is profoundly disturbing the first time to see people who are in treatment. I found on my third visit that I noticed more the people who were on their first visit: both they and their spouse have that same anxious look I'm sure I had. I'm now a veteran—a survior.

Today's visit is a quick checkup. I knew how it was going to go: I'm doing great! I can't help but boast of it to the person at the front desk: "look at me, I had my surgery only seven weeks ago!"

Because UCSD is a teaching hospital, medical students are given the task of going in an making the initial survey by themselves, after which Dr. Bouvet comes in. I find I enjoy meeting these young, new healers. I had my list of questions for the doctor:

1. How much of my esophagus was left. (About an inch, which is what I thought. That inch is very important, because it's what squeezes food and liquid down into my stomach.)
2. So, when food gets stuck, its actually getting stuck in the top part of my stomach, right? (That's correct. That should improve with time.)
3. I have a chronic, dry cough: what's that about? (Don't know for sure. Some have it, some don't. One patient had it for nine months, then it suddenly disappeared.)
4. When can I get on a horse again? (Let's be conservative and wait until at least February.)
5. Can I actually get my surgeon pose for picture with a roll of duct tape? (Clearly unsure of the humor here, but sure: why not?)

I started back to work this week. I'll work four days a week for a little while, and I find a lunchtime nap is just the ticket. Life is returning to normal again. This is a good thing.