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TL; DR*
Navigating my recent exercise in due diligence was a nightmare, thanks to some blunders on my part (understatement of the year!). But it turned into a valuable lesson in self-advocacy. (And despite everything, I still don’t glow in the dark—take that, medical establishment!)
A Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day**
For those of you watching at home:
- Hoarseness since October led me (finally) to Dr. ENT (Ear, Nose, and Throat), who diagnosed seriously inflamed vocal cords and prescribed antibiotics.
- Aware that hoarseness can signal lung cancer, I shared this with Dr. Oncology.
- Dr. Oncology ordered a throat CT out of due diligence
On December 16, I took my mom, who lives with us, to a doctor’s appointment. For a 90+ year-old, she’s spunky, but mental acuity and determination can’t stop the slow wear of time on the body. Perhaps a subterranean case of the What Ifs had begun burrowing into my unconscious before her appointment?
After dropping her home, I headed to my throat CT in teeming rain. Oddly, Google Maps directed me differently than it had when I previewed the route earlier, but a quick glance at the number of the building seemed right. (Spoiler: it wasn’t.)
Lesson: Always check the full address, including street name and town.
Despite awful road conditions, I was pleased to arrive early, not so much when she couldn’t find my name on the schedule. Then, her discovery:
“You’re supposed to be at the Tannesbourne location!”
Could I drive there immediately? Nope– too far. You have to reschedule.
Have I mentioned CT appointments are booking 5–8 weeks out due to a nationwide shortage of imaging techs? I was not calm while finagling a new appointment, but I managed to reschedule for just a week later.
“At least I have almost an hour to get to my ENT followup,” I thought, proud to be striving for positive thinking.
Except…I ended up driving south instead of north on I-5. Then, after correcting course, I was rerouted to avoid an accident.
When I passed an exit for a road I recognized, I relaxed—maybe I’d even arrive early! Except I got completely turned around. The back roads became a maze, the rain made them treacherous, and my anxiety spiraled.
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Fifteen minutes before my appointment, I was stuck in gridlock in a neighborhood I thought I knew. Clearly, I was deluded. Google claimed it would take 20 minutes to reach the clinic, but the directions didn’t make sense. Time to call the ENT’s office.
On the eighth attempt, someone answered. I pulled out of traffic as best I could. “I’m going to be late,” I said. “Can I still come?” How late? “Maybe 20 minutes?” No. I’d have to reschedule. Defeated, I picked a new date and set off again.
When I realized I’d already passed the same small store twice and had no idea which way to turn, the tears came—big, gulping sobs that left me struggling to catch my breath.
Somehow I managed to pull out of traffic. Then I called my husband.
The moral of the story?
- Some days are just rubbish.
- Sometimes, all you can do is cry it out.
- And sometimes, you need to evaluate how you’re managing stress.
I did see the ENT. I did have a throat CT. I’m not hoarse any more, and I don’t have signs of lung cancer metastases that could impinge on the recurrent laryngeal nerve.
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Lessons in Advocating for Oneself
There are two.
- A question opens doors; a statement builds walls.
I wanted to explore, and maybe challenge, Dr. ENT’s belief that my throat situation could be lung cancer-related. At my followup visit, I shared that Dr. Oncology had mentioned cancer-related physiology that could cause hoarseness. Could he explain?
Could he ever!
He disappeared for a second and came back with a well-worn book of anatomy. He gave me an thorough explanation, showing me he understood the links between hoarseness and lung cancer, while handily convincing me I had only inflamed vocal cords. (Let Chat GPT explain.)
He also pulled up the actual images from my last chest CT. “I’m no radiologist,” he said, “and your oncologist is obviously a good one, but as far as I can tell, your throat is clear.” He offered to shoot Dr. Oncology a note. Of course, I said yes.
2. Use bullet points when messaging a physician. Keep details to the bare minimum.
The day after my ENT visit, I messaged Dr. Oncology via MyChart to ask if a new CT was still necessary. Ms. PA-with-Excellent-Shoes responded, but her reply didn’t address my question. I wrote back with a request for Dr. Oncology review the question (yay for more self-advocacy!), but got no response.
In hindsight, I should’ve sent a new message containing 3 bullet points of background information leading to my specific question.
The (Finally!) Completed Throat CT
Being thoroughly fed up with medical hoo-ha, I got the throat CT. This time, no rain, no tears, and no getting lost.
The results?
- Nasopharynx, oropharynx, hypopharynx: normal.
- Oral, sublingual, submandibular regions: normal.
- Larynx: normal.
I’m now officially done with cancer until brain scans in March. Hallelujah!
Closing Thoughts
Thanks for reading. I hope your travels are safe, your stress levels low, and your New Year full of bright moments.
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*TL;DR is a common internet acronym for “Too Long; Didn’t Read.” At face value, the phrase seems pretty easy to understand….In its simplest form, TLDR is used to express that a piece of digital text (an article, email, etc.) is too long to be worth reading. A lone “TLDR?” without any explanation could be an intentionally rude or funny comment. In most cases, though, it’s just a witty acknowledgment that a small chunk of text is easier to digest than a large wall of text.
**After Judith Viorst’s children’s book, Alexander and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day.