A Diet to Die For! Breast Cancer in Canada.

I really don’t use the word “ain’t” …

Some of this information is found in some of my other posts. I’m putting them in one easy place as it’s likely you may forget a thing or two should you find yourself in the same position.

Remember firstly, you or your spouse/family member need to be your advocate and speak for you when you can’t, or you forget — the healthcare system will do everything they can to ensure they don’t spend any money on your care — you need to prepare for a battle to get care at home.

1. You don’t need a nightgown or pyjamas. After a mastectomy, the nurses and doctors need access to your chest so you’ll likely have a hospital gown on.
2. CCAC. They should contact you the day of discharge to make arrangements for home care. Make sure you speak to your surgeon BEFORE GOING INTO THE HOSPITAL!
3. Bring very loose clothes to change into for your day of discharge: your arms and shoulders will be stiff and you won’t be very mobile.
4. Did you buy your post-surgery camisole yet? If not, get one. They have easy pockets on the inside for the JP drains you’ll be sent home with.
5. Ok, bring a toothbrush … unless you have someone to help with your hair (if you have any left from chemo), don’t bother bringing a brush or comb. Your arm/s and shoulder/s will be too stiff to brush or comb it.

Have You Made All the Plans Necessary?

1. When you get home, do you have enough food to get you through at least 4 weeks?
2. Do you have friends and neighbours home during the day to help with meal preparation, going to the store for last minute items, etc.? If not, get their phone numbers and ASK FOR HELP! I have been independent my entire life and this is and was the most difficult thing I had to do (and still have to do from time to time).

Dr. Ewan said I shouldn’t be able to use my arm for at least 2 weeks (lymphoedema is a possibility- link opens Wikipedia) and here it is 5 weeks later and the one arm is still not 100%. Thankfully, I have a deli about 1 mile from me and am able to drive for short distances … even though I probably shouldn’t be driving yet.

The first 2 weeks, I used GroceryGateway.com to order groceries: I wasn’t happy that I had to order $45 worth of food though … I’m one person with limited mobility and not much of an appetite so trying to order $45 worth of food was tough.

It was about 4 weeks before I could shower myself … and I can’t really get to my armpit due to the stiffness I still have.

I’ll add more information shortly …

This is a post I’ve hesitated to write.

For the most part, the people I’ve met along the way — the men and women working within the health care system — have been quite good and at least try to be compassionate.

There are unfortunately those who make dealing with cancer even more challenging than it should be.

One particular instance I don’t think I’ll ever forget — and when I’m healthy enough, I will write a formal complaint; it was during my pre-surgery appointment. Bear in mind that I am in a cancer centre which I find makes this person even more vile. It was one of the final appointments of the day and it was during this time that I had approximately 30 vials of blood taken from me.

Dr. Chemo also gave me an appointment for blood work the next day, and I asked the receptionist at the blood clinic if they could combine the 2 tests so I didn’t have to come back. An inocuous question I thought. And an obvious question. I had been through the pre-surgery appointments for almost 5 or 6 hours and really didn’t want to take an extra day off to come back — and I had been poked, pinched and prodded enough already.

The receptionist said no problem and told me to let my technician know — she is supposed to call Dr. Chemo’s office (around the corner and down the hall from where I was) to let them know.

When it’s my tun, I ask her if she’ll combine the 2 tests.

I don’t think she ever answered me. She walked away. Sighed. Put her hands in her pockets. I’ll never forget what she was wearing — my guess is that she is approximately 21 years old, had long black hair, wore glasses … and had red pants on! I thought to myself that she’s a bit chubby to be wearing red, but hey, who am I to judge.

I’m so glad I paid attention to what she was wearing, as I should be able to identify her the next time I have to go to the blood clinic in the cancer centre.

She comes back, points her finger in my face and tells me that this will be the last time they will combine the tests for me — if I have been given 2 appointments in the future, I’m to keep them — she tells me I have now been warned never to ask again.

My response to her was that I’ve never had cancer before and didn’t know the rules.

She just stared at me.

I think I quietly cried to myself through the entire blood test.

30 vials later … as I’m just sitting there, not sure what to do or if I can leave …

She doesn’t say anything — she hands me a cup that I’m supposed to urninate in, but doesn’t tell me where the washroom is. When I come out, she doesn’t tell me where to put the darn pee.

I couldn’t have felt less than a human being than I did that day.

And it was completely unnecessary on her part … I wasn’t a bitch or nasty or condescending to this person: although it took everything in me to keep quiet: she had needles and was in a position to really hurt me so I kept my mouth shut.

As they say, time heals all wounds ….

But this story doesn’t end there …

3 weeks later … and half an hour before I’m about to be rolled into surgery, the nurse says she can’t find part of my blood results.

You guessed it … the blood technician lost my results!!

Coincidence?  Somehow I don’t think so.

I asked surgical nurse if she could lodge a complaint against the blood technician when I told her the story. She said that I could complain, but not her. I asked her if she thought it was incompetence and if she thought it was, can’t she say anything to someone? She said she would make a call to the blood clinic.

I will definitely make a formal complaint.

Why work in the health care field, and especially in a cancer centre, if you treat people like garbage, Miss Bitch-in-the-Red-Pants?

The persosn from the Cancer Society who drove me there says it sounds like they (the hospital and all the various clinics within them) just want to be able to swipe my OHIP card again.

Yup, I’m a walking OHIP card, and not a person … this is my mantra sadly.