August 19, 2001 Home Back Issues       Troubled Waters Or, How I navigated the health care system by Patty Cyr Subscribe to our free e-newsletter!   It kept nagging at me. Each time I took a shower, a little voice would seek my attention. "Ovarian cancer." Why was my intuition telling me that? Since I had no symptoms of it, I ignored the voice. It wasn't until I was challenged with my health, that I truly came into my own as a woman with self worth. Most of my life I was nice. Life was easy then. A girlish smile, and pretty clothes, got me far. I was soon to find, that "nice," was not going to cut it anymore. I quickly learned, that being female, meant I'd have to work twice as hard to survive the bureaucracy of the medical system. "Your x-rays are fine, dear. I'll speak with your family doctor. A lot of women are under stress." "Your ultrasound reveals some type of tumor. Don't worry -- I don't think it's cancer." I decided to get a second opinion. That doctor dismissed it entirely. I sought a third opinion, and that doctor merely laughed and said that I was needlessly worrying. I then sought a fourth opinion. Cancer was not suspected. Unfortunately, a laparoscopy would soon reveal that the doctors had been wrong, and that my intuition had been right. A week after my laparoscopy I received a phone call from my gynecologist. I knew something was not right, because he was so insistent that I come into his office, as opposed to just discussing the biopsy results on the phone. It was a dreary rainy day that I drove to his office. I sat in the waiting room for quite some time waiting for him to arrive. A young man, also in the waiting room, started up a conversation with me. He revealed that he was a salesman who was there to offer his products to the doctor. The doctor finally arrived and called me in. Emotions were swirling through my head, as I knew the biopsy results would not be good. Sure enough, he exclaimed, "You have ovarian cancer!" He quickly suggested a well known surgeon and a doctor to manage my chemotherapy. A hysterectomy would soon be scheduled. The visit was approximately five minutes. I was escorted out, and the salesman was let in. Anger swelled within me as I descended the stairs from the building. I was being rushed out of the office by my doctor for a salesman! Even managed care would allow more time for an office visit. I couldn't believe I had driven all they way to the office for that! I hadn't been given time, during my visit, to express my emotional reaction to the diagnosis I was not even giving myself the time. Scenes like this happened over and over. Then, there was paperwork of an unforeseen proportion. Clerical errors, that others felt minor, were impacting me significantly. The errors were astronomical, and were causing more stress, than the illnesses themselves. I was being challenged to the highest degree I had ever known. I could not give up if I wanted to survive. After some office visits, I would sit in my car and cry. The tears would flow endlessly. The doctors were not listening to me. They were dismissing many of my complaints as female whining. My tears were a necessary release from the frustration I had with the medical system. I had to find a way to get more control. I felt like a lost child. Just smiling and being polite was not working. So many girls are brought up to brush off battles with a smile. Unfortunately, many women continue this habit into adulthood, as I had. I needed to become assertive. I had to believe in myself. I had to speak up and demand the attention I deserved. I had to say no, when necessary. I had to ask for what I needed. And so began my awakening. A higher power was demanding my attention. It was time to stop, and look deep within myself, my relationships with others, and my relationship with the universe. I could no longer be the little girl, with a cute smile, trying to make everybody happy. It didn't matter anymore if someone didn't like me. I had to speak up for what I needed. My life depended on it. Situations that demanded my assertiveness skyrocketed from the time I entered the hospital for my hysterectomy. My surgery was scheduled for mid-afternoon, and I was scheduled to arrive at noon. I had been assured by the hospital staff, however, that I could arrive early in the morning if I was having problems. I awoke that morning at 5a.m. feeling extremely weak since my liquid fast of 48 hours. I knew I had to leave very soon or felt I would pass out. I could barely get into the car. As my husband drove, I could feel myself getting weaker and weaker. When I arrived at 7 a.m. I was told, very abruptly, that they would not accommodate me until my scheduled arrival time. I collapsed in a chair in the waiting room despite them telling me I could not sit there. I could feel my world spinning out of control as I got weaker and weaker. I knew I had to find the strength to speak up. Struggling to speak, I said, "I was told I could come in early. I am here. I would like the room that I was promised." I was finally given the room. Soon after I entered the room I overheard a nurse say that the weakness was all in my head! She impatiently hooked up my IV and inserted my catheter. What was soon discovered was that my blood pressure had dropped very low. That explained the weakness that I was feeling. After the surgery, I awoke in my room. It was all so dreamlike. Two nurses and a doctor were standing there. "We'd like you to take a shower now. We have the staff for it today." Now, I thought. I could barely move from my incision! "No," I insisted. "I will take it tomorrow." Numerous incidents arose to challenge me. The next day I was incredibly famished from not having eaten for days. The nurse kept laughing at me and telling me that I could not be hungry because I was getting nourishment from the IV. She told me the hunger was all in my head. I demanded attention to the fact that I was feeling so much weaker as the day went on. I soon found out that my IV was dripping at too slow of a rate for me to get the proper nourishment! Two days later, a nurse insisted on removing my catheter. That would be a major problem for me as I have a chronic bladder problem which results in frequent urination. For me to void sixty times a day is not uncommon. It had been agreed, prior to the surgery, that it would be kept in until my discharge from the hospital. "I must have it in," I said. "It is a medical necessity. There is a letter from my doctor in my file." They were pushing me further and demanding it come out. "It must be left in. Please call my doctor to discuss it. If it is not left in, there will be a lawsuit." They left it in. The day finally came for my release from the hospital. Finally, with all my tubes and needles pulled out, I was free! I was soon to discover, though, that many more challenging situations were about to present themselves during my follow-up care. Several weeks after my surgery, I had my first follow-up visit. I sat in the doctors office, stark naked under my clean white hospital gown. I'm as sterile as this gown now, I thought to myself. Then in walked two resident doctors. They tried to convince me to let them examine me instead of my surgeon. Ah, another challenge. "Nice to meet you, but I'd like to see my doctor." "Oh," they said, "but you'll have to wait too long and he's very busy." "Oh, that's o.k.," I answered, "I will wait. I am here to see the doctor I booked my appointment with." They concurred, shook my hand, and left. During my visit my doctor did not even initiate a discussion of hormonal treatment. I had been stripped of my ovaries and was dry as a desert ravine. Sexual relations were impossible due to this and also a shrinking of my tissues. Blood tests, to monitor my remission were not suggested. Such issues were totally ignored. After a brief inspection of my parts, I was about to be sent on my way! "There are important issues we must discuss before I leave," I said. The doctor then answered all of my questions. My new attitude of assertiveness was working. I was speaking up and getting the service I deserved. I began to win many of the battles with bureaucracy. I had kept meticulous medical records. In the past, without being courageous enough to stand up for myself, they were meaningless. With my new attitude, however, they were an asset. I won numerous claim appeals which saved me thousands of dollars. Oddly enough, my year of chemotherapy was one of my best years. It was during this time, that I became more centered, through therapeutic touch with a healer. Through it, I also learned the art of flexibility. There were many times I went to chemo, only to be sent home immediately, because my blood counts were too low. It was difficult at first. I was all pumped up psychologically, and ready. How disappointing to be sent home, only to have to build up the courage once again. Then, I discovered how to be flexible, and tap into areas of strength I never knew I had. Flexibility was useful in other areas of my life too. I learned that life really falls into place if you allow it to. There is a reason for everything, although it may not be apparent at the time. I connected with a higher power, and found energies that I never knew existed. I became more enlightened through visualizations and meditations. I took time for myself. With my new clarity, my definition of womanhood had changed. Smiles, pretty clothes, and always saying yes, were no longer a part of it. What is important is, knowing who I am, believing in myself, and standing up for my beliefs and values. My cancer has been in remission for three years now. I believe this is a result of the surgery, chemo treatments, and using my newly learned skills in a positive manner. The universe offers so much. Once I learned to tap into it's energies, I was blessed with so many of it's offerings. It's ironic that I transcended to womanhood, only after being physically stripped of my femininity. I had lost all of my hair during chemo. My ovaries and uterus were gone too. Yet, I had gained a spirituality and inner serenity that no doctor could strip me of. Most importantly, I learned to trust my female intuition, and stand up for myself.   HAIKU BY PATTY   Blooming in my soul A woman's intuition - Showing me the way   Patty Cyr For further tips on coping with illness, please visit my website: http://www.geocities.com/bhchcactus/patient.htm