Wednesdays have been “Doctor Days” for me this month. For some reason the day seems to be good for everyone concerned. In order, I did blood work for my Primary Care Physician, seeing him the following Wednesday. Last Wednesday, I reported for bloodwork and a CAT Scan for my cancer doctor’s appointment today. Next Wednesday, I see my optometrist. The following Wednesday, I have an appointment to renew my driver’s license. The last one wasn’t a doctor’s appointment, but it fell right in line with the trend established on the first Wednesday in January.
Through the miracle of the internet, I can pretty much know what’s going on with me before I have the opportunity to see a doctor. The visit to the PCP a couple of weeks ago was more like an old home visit than it was a doctor visit. We checked on a couple of issues, came up with a way to address them, and he sent me on my way. Same today with the cancer specialist.
Before I was on my way, I expressed my feelings of guilt going into the visit in the first place. Nearly two years ago, I found I had cancer. It was localized, excised, and that was the end of it. We determined to keep a close eye on things just in case… visits every three months with CAT scans before every other visit. I’m thankful that there is no big deal going on with my diagnosis and follow up. What strikes me, though, is that there are people I know who have been through the wringer, so to speak, because of a cancer diagnosis.
In other words, I feel guilty for going to and from my appointments with the cancer specialist feeling happy and carefree when there are people in the doctor’s waiting room undergoing the fight of their lives.
And they don’t always win.
After expressing my feelings, my Oncologist told me that she had just seen two patients who despite fighting the good fight, were on the losing side of that fight. The fact that she gave her patients bad news made her want to quit her job. I see her point. It can be depressing having to tell someone the effort they have put forward has been hopeless. On the other hand, she was delighted to see me in relatively good health. I was her oasis amid a veritable desert of the soul.
I’ve caught the same vibe from my PCP and most of the other medical professionals I have rubbed elbows with, in the past couple of years.
I am about to finish a four-year program titled “Education for Ministry” offered through the University of the South. The goal of the program is to help us find some way of being of service – some way of ministering to others as part of our life experience. As I have stated before, the program does not necessarily produce Priests, Ministers, or Deacons working in the confines of the church (although it has). Ministery can be something as simple as providing a meal – helping to clothe the naked – or any number of likely endeavors. Including being a bright spot in someone else’s day.
I do believe that. When the Oncologist laughed at something I said, I told her, “My mission for today is accomplished.”
And indeed, it was.
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bdharrellauthor 