Ode to an onc

Holy macaroni. I am freaking out over something that might seem a little strange.

But once you have been diagnosed with a horrible disease your doctor is your best friend. If you do not totally trust this person than go find another one.

My oncologist takes his time. Which means you usually have to wait 30-45 minutes in the waiting room. No matter how sick, anxious or horrible I felt, he was there... making sense of everything. He carefully explained every question I googled. He took the time when I had long lists with crazy questions. He emailed me back when I forwarded him research material I found on silly websites. He called me back, even if it was around dinner time. Sometimes he even made me laugh!  

When I first came to see him with a bald head he told me I looked good and he meant it, because that's the type of guy he is. We talked about other things as well such as his family, my photography and art. I even showed him some of my photography and he loved it and thought I was well.. special. 

Yesterday I found out he's leaving for another job. An important job... But he won't be my onc anymore. I wanted to cry and hug him, but I didn't.

He gave me a compliment, because things weren't easy for me during such a long period of treatment. But he told me I am definitely a fighter. He also said it was a bit strange to say because he is a doctor and I am his patient, but he was proud of me. He told me he was happy that I am taking the Tamoxifen and the Zoladex. The last step of our treatment plan and that I should now mentally work things out. That I should focus on that.

He also said it was hard for him turning over his patients to another doctor. He already found his replacement and he said it was a long process of finding the right type of person. But he thought that I would get along with the newbie. Hopefully my next appointment won't be for a while though.

So we shook hands and I thanked him for everything and he knew I meant it.