WHAT'S UP DOC?

I hated the crowded waiting room.  If you were sitting there you either had cancer yourself or loved someone that was facing the disease. I would pass the time reading books, magazines, the bible...anything that could transport my mind.  My Mom usually came to the appointments with me and she had a wonderful ability to fill the hours with entertaining stories about nothing important.  Most of the first visits were a blur. The doctors could have been speaking another language.  I looked at their detached faces and surmised that I was just another statistic- they were simply doing their job.  In the months to come, however, I discovered that each of them would stand beside me as we went to battle together.

The men and woman that cared for me provided the perfect balance of truth, guidance, strength, and understanding.  Dr. Leight, my surgeon, looked more like a retired athlete than a doctor.  If he would only crack a joke or smile I could pretend that we were not speaking about removing my breasts.  As months passed, I grew to appreciate the calm strength that he brought to my world.  Dr. Coniglio was the physician's assistant to my oncologist.  Talking to him was like listening to a beautiful love sonnet.  During our visits, he had a way of weaving stories about his family, former patients, and my own health issues that touched my heart. Dr. Zenn is my plastic surgeon...and he is such a character. I did meet him when I first was diagnosed, but I did not undergo reconstruction until I was healed from my other surgery and treatment.  Seeing Dr. Zenn and his nurse Jo Ann was like watching a movie starring academy award winning actors.  He is definitely the smooth talking, cool leading man and she is the best friend you want to chat with over a glass of wine.  I will never forget driving from the hospital  after my last visit with Dr. Zenn realizing he had given me back a piece of myself.   

It is truly an impossible task to try to capture my journey with my oncologist, Dr. Kelly Marcom.  He was the man that prescribed the course of treatment I would have to endure. On his laptop he created a survival pie chart that used studies to predict how long I could possibly live depending on certain medical intervention.  I hung on his every word and then dissected them again when I was at home.  Sometimes I would ask him the same question several different ways to try to trip him up. He was my life preserver when I felt like I was going under. I wish I could tell you that I was courageous and battled like a true champion, but in case Dr. Marcom ever writes a tell all book I better just be honest here and now... I was a pathetic mess.  All I did was cry during every appointment...no matter what he said to me I had made up my mind that there was no hope.  Dr. Marcom was at Duke when my father received treatment and is the Director of the Hereditary Cancer Clinic.  There is no doubt in my mind that I would not be writing these words today if it were not for his knowledge and expertise.

Dr. Marcom has tried his best to get me under control over the past 5 years, but anyone that knows me well understands that impossible task.  One particular appointment I was in the middle of one of my emotional ramblings and he spoke the words that have altered my perspective.  He said, "Jamie right now cancer is like a ferocious lion.  You feel it behind you, breathing down your neck, and ready to pounce and devour you at any moment.  It is my job as your doctor to put that lion in a cage.  I can never take it out of your life completely, but it will be behind bars unable to hurt you."   The fear did not leave me instantly, but Dr. Marcom delivered on his promise.  He has been there during the ups and downs never once leaving me alone.   Most of my days are filled with the magical feeling that comes with simply living, but sometimes I hear the distant roars of that horrible beast and I begin to shake.  Instead of running to an unreliable source, I turn to the one that always tells me "like it is."  He now understands all my tricks and refuses to buy into the crazy world of Jamie Howard cancer patient.  We live in the moment always taking that next best step that keeps me moving toward healing.

Thank you does not even come close to capturing the gratitude I feel for my doctors.  The only thing I know to do for them is to try my best to live the life God intended for me.  These caring individuals have taught me that we are not meant to walk our paths in solitude.  No matter how strong and independent you are there will come a time when you need to reach out to someone for help.  All at once my world came tumbling down and friends, family, doctors, prayer warriors, and neighbors refused to let me throw in the towel.  Today, I can hardly make out those familiar growls above the sounds of celebration.



What do you need to put behind bars?