Drowning in Medical Crap

This past week was a challenging medical week for me. The second dose of the shingles vaccine threw me a bit off track. As I mentioned in a previous blog entry, my allergies came back, which meant my asthma came back too. I had to restart my asthma medications. It will take a few days for them to get my asthma under control. Yesterday, I got both the flu and COVID vaccines, so I am feeling off today. I am hoping I feel much better tomorrow, just in time to fly out tomorrow evening for my 11-day business trip. I am normally excited about transatlantic trips, but this time I am dreading the overnight flight to Munich and then on to Ljubljana. Simply put, I am beyond exhausted.


On top of it all, I also had a pre-operation task to complete yesterday: a renal ultrasound of my right kidney. I had a moment in the waiting room when I felt a wave of anger. There were too many medical things happening this week. It was overwhelming. Dealing with all the medical stuff felt like a job in itself, and I still had my actual jobs to manage. I felt like I was drowning trying to keep up with everything. They made me wait 50 minutes to be seen. I was sitting there restless and uncomfortable because they instructed me to drink 32 ounces of water before the appointment. My bladder was painfully full, and all I wanted was to go home and catch up on work. I wish I could take an extended leave from work to focus fully on my health, but in this capitalistic society, that is not an option at all.


When they finally called me back, they had no clue how to use the video remote interpreting system, and my bladder was about to burst. The technician motioned to me to lay down and scanned my abdomen and then told me I could go to the bathroom. After that, I went back into the room to continue the procedure. A few minutes later, the technician wanted to see my left kidney. Then she called someone else in to help get a sign language interpreter connected on the iPad. The technician said my kidneys looked clear, so she was wondering why I was there. I said, “I have a tumor in my right kidney.” She said, “Really? Have you had any scans before?” For a short moment, I hoped my tumor had disappeared through some kind of divine intervention. I told her I had CT scans on March 30 and May 1, and then a biopsy on May 18. She said, “Oh, okay. I need to look into that.”


I often tell my interpreting students about the value of preparation. Preparation is what helps ensure stronger quality in communication access. I really wish the technician had prepared better and shown sensitive bedside manner. I did not want to be there. I had to be there because it was on my list of pre-operation tasks. Having her tell me my kidneys were clear only made things worse. After she reviewed the CT scan images from those three dates, she scanned my right kidney again and said she could see the tumor. I guess the tumor did not disappear. Dang.


Why did they need to do a renal ultrasound? This is what my doctor sent me: “Because your mass is slightly endophytic — a portion of it is growing inwards into the kidney and not completely growing off of the kidney — we often obtain a renal ultrasound in the weeks prior so that we can compare it to intraoperative ultrasound when we identify the tumor.” What does endophytic mean? It means part of the mass is embedded inside the kidney tissue rather than sitting on the outside. As a result, it is harder to see clearly during surgery. This ultrasound gives the surgical team a clearer roadmap. They will do another ultrasound in the operating room and compare it with the scan completed yesterday. This helps them pinpoint the exact boundaries of the tumor so they can preserve as much healthy kidney tissue as possible.


The “journey” I have on MyChart says I am 67% done with the pre-operation tasks. I have three appointments on September 18, and then it is just waiting until the big day. I hope they do not throw more tasks at me. At this point, I just want fewer surprises and a little more breathing room.


Comments

  1. ChrysSeptember 6, 2026 at 4:28 AM

    What an authentic description of the emotional turmoil and stress that living with cancer causes! I’m sorry it was such a hard week, and I’m grateful for you in sharing your perspective so that we can all learn to have grace for each other.

    ReplyDelete

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