Unknowingly, I jumped the gun. It turns out I am not having surgery. Not yet, anyway.
I saw my surgeon today. He is a gynae oncologist specialising in more complicated surgeries. He is highly regarded in his field and I was referred to him by my mum's classmate who is also a leading gynaecologist in Malaysia. Dr Aziz Yahya is a kind and gentle man who has no airs about him at all. He's warm and approachable, and a straight shooter without being crass like some doctors can be.
My meeting with him didn't change the solution or necessarily the approach towards my surgery. Even though Dr Aziz is skilled in performing surgery robotically (which is his preferred method), it cannot be used on me. My pelvic cyst has a semi-liquid portion and what looks like a solid mass to it. It must be removed intact. They still need to open me up to ascertain if there is cancer.
However, there is a particular cancer test specific to ovarian cancer called OVPLEX that is 95% accurate in determining if I am at high or low risk for cancer. More information can be seen here: http://www.ovplex.com.au/aboutovplex.aspx
This multimarker bloodtest for ovarian cancer costs RM900.00 (USD 300) just because Malaysia doesn't have a lab to test for it. I believe it has to do with some licensing issues. Testing has to be done in Singapore so my blood has to be couriered to Singapore for analysis. Furthermore, they need 10 days to get the results back. As a result, I have earned myself a reprieve. I cannot be in surgery till after the results are back because it determines how Dr Aziz will open me up.
If it is found that I have high risk for cancer, a vertical incision will be made and lots of parts of me will be gone. Lymph nodes, omentum, ovaries, the lot. If I am at low risk, then he will open me transversely, then upon removal of the cyst, he will determine if it is suspicious for cancer. If it looks like I have it, then a frozen section of the cyst will be ordered while I am still on the table and sedated. They need 30 mins to figure it out. If cancer is found, I will still lose the lot and a bigger incision is necessary to remove it all.
There was a lot more to our meeting which lasted almost an hour. I felt really comfortable with Dr Aziz and he explained things precisely and clearly to me. It is the standard to have people stay in the hospital for 4 days following surgery. I was already negotiating to get out earlier if possible, and it was met with a slightly raised eyebrow with a little smile attached. We don't want people to stay in the hospital if it isn't necessary. Or something to that effect. Let's hope I'm out early. But I don't think surgery will happen any time earlier than July 4th, honestly.
My thoughts immediately go to Pulau Perhentian. The doctor said swimming is good. Even snorkelling is good. But then I thought about my mother. She would have a cow if I even mention that I want to steal a day to go to my beloved island. It is a risk. Dr Aziz approved it, with a reminder, as long as you don't do anything too robust! I actually immediately shot it down as I was saying it, but I also really do want to go. I really really want to...even for just a day and a night.
My appointment with the doctor ended on a good note. I left feeling that I was in good hands. I am ready. But as soon as I got in the car with my brother who had taken half a day to be with me, I got on the phone to Shelly and told her the news about the surgery and when it would be. Can you read my mind now? Do you know what I'm going to ask you next? She laughed her hearty laugh and I was filled with anticipation. She's going to say let's do it! I'll see what I can do, I'll let you know by Sunday. I have to check my schedule.
So I'm left wondering...do I get to go? I have 10 days or so to do what I want before I'll be left at a diminished capacity and probably mostly in bed for the following weeks. I will even miss Wimbledon because I will probably be in hospital during that time. Hmmm... And yes, I am selfish. I want to be able to do this.
Saturday, June 22, 2013
Friday, June 21, 2013
I5 mins to write
I shall allow myself not more than 15 mins to leave these thoughts before I head out to see the surgeon tomorrow in KL because it is late and I have to be up to catch a flight in -oh -5 hours!
I leave with a light and heavy heart -
I feel like I have a pretty good attitude towards this whole thing. I have an upcoming surgery that is certain. What is discovered is uncertain. But what happens happens. I can't change that. Nobody can. I don't believe in God, so nobody can save me. I'm a realist. I am not worried or depressed. I just want to bloody fix things!! Everything else is not in my hands. I can only be happy and have a good attitude and that's the best I can do. I hope that whatever it is in my pelvis is fixable. And if I do have cancer, it is treatable.
Look at James Gandolfini today. He didn't anticipate his end was nigh. Nobody could have. Life is like that. I accept it. It could be this our that that takes you away from everything and everybody.
I am lucky because I have parents, husband, daughter and an amazing brother who love me and unconditionally at that. My family has lent their support, my friends - new and old - have stood by me, and wished me luck. Most of you who know me don't give me "false hope" and say everything will be fine. And those of you who have said that - I know you mean you hope the best for me. And I appreciate it all the same. Love and hugs to all! Massive love and hugs.
To those of you who have heard me speak endlessly about the ups and downs...I hope you don't mind! I talked to you a lot because you listen well. I might have bored you but you were there for me. And I thank you! Those who have heard me briefly, just know that I didn't want to rehash things over and over for everyone. If you read me here, you'll know what I mean.
The heavy heart of course is if things go wrong - my dear Zoe: Mummy's favorite girl. Forever! I hope you always keep a good attitude and remain strong no matter what. Life goes on. There's many things that I haven't had a chance to teach you but I know you are in good hands with Daddy and everyone in Malaysia. Love love love!! Big love!! Remember to treat your family and friends well, and with respect, at all times.
I'm not a fatalist, don't think that at all. But I don't want to leave important things unsaid. Going forward, I'm not sure if I have the heart to add to this, but I more than likely will. I am always looking up and always smiling..
Yours,
Gigi xoxo
I leave with a light and heavy heart -
I feel like I have a pretty good attitude towards this whole thing. I have an upcoming surgery that is certain. What is discovered is uncertain. But what happens happens. I can't change that. Nobody can. I don't believe in God, so nobody can save me. I'm a realist. I am not worried or depressed. I just want to bloody fix things!! Everything else is not in my hands. I can only be happy and have a good attitude and that's the best I can do. I hope that whatever it is in my pelvis is fixable. And if I do have cancer, it is treatable.
Look at James Gandolfini today. He didn't anticipate his end was nigh. Nobody could have. Life is like that. I accept it. It could be this our that that takes you away from everything and everybody.
I am lucky because I have parents, husband, daughter and an amazing brother who love me and unconditionally at that. My family has lent their support, my friends - new and old - have stood by me, and wished me luck. Most of you who know me don't give me "false hope" and say everything will be fine. And those of you who have said that - I know you mean you hope the best for me. And I appreciate it all the same. Love and hugs to all! Massive love and hugs.
To those of you who have heard me speak endlessly about the ups and downs...I hope you don't mind! I talked to you a lot because you listen well. I might have bored you but you were there for me. And I thank you! Those who have heard me briefly, just know that I didn't want to rehash things over and over for everyone. If you read me here, you'll know what I mean.
The heavy heart of course is if things go wrong - my dear Zoe: Mummy's favorite girl. Forever! I hope you always keep a good attitude and remain strong no matter what. Life goes on. There's many things that I haven't had a chance to teach you but I know you are in good hands with Daddy and everyone in Malaysia. Love love love!! Big love!! Remember to treat your family and friends well, and with respect, at all times.
I'm not a fatalist, don't think that at all. But I don't want to leave important things unsaid. Going forward, I'm not sure if I have the heart to add to this, but I more than likely will. I am always looking up and always smiling..
Yours,
Gigi xoxo
Tuesday, June 18, 2013
I'm supposed to slow down
...but I simply can't.
After an agonizing day of pain in my pelvic region from what I can only think is the twisting of my pelvic cyst or torsion (which may not be), and 800mg of ibuprofen later, I finally feel pain-free in the evening.
I quickly take the opportunity to swim. I figure, let's try 200m and see what happens. I haven't swum in almost a full week, I think. I haven't worked out for the same amount of time, and I have been eating and enjoying food over the last week despite the various ups and downs of my health news. So I'm due a good session. And I need to clear my head of the rubbish that's been going in! Let's see if my lower abs bother me.
200m and I am fine, so let's go for 400m. I'm still fine. Let's shoot for 600m. Hmm, I think I'd better stop after I hit the mark, but no, I'm barely breathing hard. Okay. 750m. I'm not only going strong, I'm not really stopping for a break. I am the fittest I have ever been in a long long time, yet I have all these worries about cancer and a small matter of a naughty (biggish) cyst. It doesn't make sense that I think I am fit does it? But I don't feel tired, when many times I get sluggish.
At the 900m mark, I finally feel a bit winded. I'm having to breathe more often. I figure I did a combo of 40% breast and 60% free. And not a slow relaxing breast stroke at that. So at 900m, it makes sense to round it up to an even 1km. I do exactly that and I feel like I'm on top of the world. I did it in 25 mins, which is much more than super fit people need, but for me it is pretty darn good. Exit. Shower.
Feeling fantastic. I hope I don't pay for it later. Thank you painkillers. I hope I get to do this again tomorrow but in the sun. And maybe I won't need as much ibuprofen.
This swim was not really for vanity, but for my sanity.
After an agonizing day of pain in my pelvic region from what I can only think is the twisting of my pelvic cyst or torsion (which may not be), and 800mg of ibuprofen later, I finally feel pain-free in the evening.
I quickly take the opportunity to swim. I figure, let's try 200m and see what happens. I haven't swum in almost a full week, I think. I haven't worked out for the same amount of time, and I have been eating and enjoying food over the last week despite the various ups and downs of my health news. So I'm due a good session. And I need to clear my head of the rubbish that's been going in! Let's see if my lower abs bother me.
200m and I am fine, so let's go for 400m. I'm still fine. Let's shoot for 600m. Hmm, I think I'd better stop after I hit the mark, but no, I'm barely breathing hard. Okay. 750m. I'm not only going strong, I'm not really stopping for a break. I am the fittest I have ever been in a long long time, yet I have all these worries about cancer and a small matter of a naughty (biggish) cyst. It doesn't make sense that I think I am fit does it? But I don't feel tired, when many times I get sluggish.
At the 900m mark, I finally feel a bit winded. I'm having to breathe more often. I figure I did a combo of 40% breast and 60% free. And not a slow relaxing breast stroke at that. So at 900m, it makes sense to round it up to an even 1km. I do exactly that and I feel like I'm on top of the world. I did it in 25 mins, which is much more than super fit people need, but for me it is pretty darn good. Exit. Shower.
Feeling fantastic. I hope I don't pay for it later. Thank you painkillers. I hope I get to do this again tomorrow but in the sun. And maybe I won't need as much ibuprofen.
This swim was not really for vanity, but for my sanity.
Several notable things today!
* My father has severe gas pains and we are extremely worried because he's suffering. We have to give him a suppository which is an unpleasant thing in itself. Finally after some hours, there is some relief and we can all breathe easy.
* In the meantime, my pain has been one of the worst since returning home. Even with 600mg of ibuprofen, it is barely under control. I lie down in between checking on my dad.
* The ENT specialist calls me twice but can't get a hold of me. This is the first time during the day when I do not have my phone as my arm extension. I'm having lunch with my mum who is still worried about my dad who is recuperating.
* My friend also tries to call me four times (while I am without the phone) to tell me the ENT is trying to get a hold of me, but he leaves me a Whatsapp text instead to tell me I'm CLEAR. My nose biopsy is negative!! Hurrah for that, and phew, what a relief!!! And just like that the pain in my pelvic region subsides a little. Maybe the ibuprofen is beginning to work. (I am swimming soon!)
* I have to take Zoe to the dentist who self-proclaimed, "I'm not good with kids" to have two cavities filled and she screams at the mention of it. Later she declares she wants to use laughing gas but she doesn't want to as well. But I don't want to be controlled by gas! I laugh my ass off because that is the funniest line I've heard in a while; and my nose is clear, so I can afford to laugh!!
* I had chided a close friend in America who repeatedly assured me that everything was going to be all right. I just simply don't want to be promised things that no one can promise. Is that asking too much? So she writes a long message lamenting her life with an uncaring and almost certainly bipolar and untreated husband. She said my situation with my health is bad, but her only way out is if she were gone from this earth. And that at least my husband does not treat me like hers treats her. Here is my response to her:
Hey, you need to do what makes you happy and not pin your happiness on your family or your husband. I know how you feel right now but you have to really just try to be the happiest you can be. By yourself. For yourself. Be happy every day. Think happy things that make you happy and that make you smile. And just smile all the time. And you see you will feel better.
I am not losing hope my friend. I am a fighter and always will be. I just don't like to hear things that no one can promise. That's all. I am still hopeful that I don't have cancer. But if I do, I will face it and fight it bravely.
So please my friend, don't think unhappily even if your life is. Look up, be up, and be smiling even through pain. You will see that it helps.
Love you, Sending you lots of hugs. Even in my weakest moment, I shall not be weak. And I am here for you! PS. Don't be upset any more, and please don't drink so much.
* In the meantime, my pain has been one of the worst since returning home. Even with 600mg of ibuprofen, it is barely under control. I lie down in between checking on my dad.
* The ENT specialist calls me twice but can't get a hold of me. This is the first time during the day when I do not have my phone as my arm extension. I'm having lunch with my mum who is still worried about my dad who is recuperating.
* My friend also tries to call me four times (while I am without the phone) to tell me the ENT is trying to get a hold of me, but he leaves me a Whatsapp text instead to tell me I'm CLEAR. My nose biopsy is negative!! Hurrah for that, and phew, what a relief!!! And just like that the pain in my pelvic region subsides a little. Maybe the ibuprofen is beginning to work. (I am swimming soon!)
* I have to take Zoe to the dentist who self-proclaimed, "I'm not good with kids" to have two cavities filled and she screams at the mention of it. Later she declares she wants to use laughing gas but she doesn't want to as well. But I don't want to be controlled by gas! I laugh my ass off because that is the funniest line I've heard in a while; and my nose is clear, so I can afford to laugh!!
* I had chided a close friend in America who repeatedly assured me that everything was going to be all right. I just simply don't want to be promised things that no one can promise. Is that asking too much? So she writes a long message lamenting her life with an uncaring and almost certainly bipolar and untreated husband. She said my situation with my health is bad, but her only way out is if she were gone from this earth. And that at least my husband does not treat me like hers treats her. Here is my response to her:
Hey, you need to do what makes you happy and not pin your happiness on your family or your husband. I know how you feel right now but you have to really just try to be the happiest you can be. By yourself. For yourself. Be happy every day. Think happy things that make you happy and that make you smile. And just smile all the time. And you see you will feel better.
I am not losing hope my friend. I am a fighter and always will be. I just don't like to hear things that no one can promise. That's all. I am still hopeful that I don't have cancer. But if I do, I will face it and fight it bravely.
So please my friend, don't think unhappily even if your life is. Look up, be up, and be smiling even through pain. You will see that it helps.
Love you, Sending you lots of hugs. Even in my weakest moment, I shall not be weak. And I am here for you! PS. Don't be upset any more, and please don't drink so much.
Resisting the urge to...
1. Disregard my pain and go swim so I can just clear my mind and think
2. Calling the Doctor to ask where my biopsy results are
3. Talk to people I want to talk to in case I bore them with my health scares
4. Get on the treadmill and/or lift some weights in case my bloody cyst gives way and I become an emergency case!
5. Walk at my usual pace
6. Overstress about the future
7. Overthink things
8. Not eat again. I should eat..
9. try to take care of everything that is mine myself and let people help me.
10. Tell people off who say "Don't Worry, everything will be fine".
2. Calling the Doctor to ask where my biopsy results are
3. Talk to people I want to talk to in case I bore them with my health scares
4. Get on the treadmill and/or lift some weights in case my bloody cyst gives way and I become an emergency case!
5. Walk at my usual pace
6. Overstress about the future
7. Overthink things
8. Not eat again. I should eat..
9. try to take care of everything that is mine myself and let people help me.
10. Tell people off who say "Don't Worry, everything will be fine".
Sunday, June 16, 2013
Malindo Air
Malindo Air is one of the newest airlines to compete in Malaysian airspace. Their slogan: "Not Just Low Cost". The aircraft from Subang Airport to Kota Bharu was exactly the same as the usual Firefly aircraft, not sure what model that is though. Two seats on each side. And even though Malindo boasts more leg room, I highly doubt it. I can't be sure, but it did feel a little tighter for leg room. The seats however, were comfortable, but not exceptionally large or special. The seatbelts seem to be a lot longer than other airlines though.
Usually, the journey starts with the airplane reversing and taxiing to a certain point and then you will gradually speed up and take off. With Malindo, this part of the journey was extremely short. We reversed, made a slight turn to the left and then suddenly we were speeding down the runway and before you know it, we're in the air.
The lighting in the aircraft upon take off (and landing too) was nice. Dimmed cabin, with blue lights and even dimmer fasten seatbelt signs. I really felt like I was in the spaceship Enterprise! At any minute I would expect to see Jean Luc Piccard and share a hot cup of Earl Grey with him. Hmm, wouldn't that be something? Anyway that fantasy didn't last long.
Immediately after take off, service began. Beverage choices were tea, coffee or "plain water". The snack was a golf-ball-sized cup cake. I had a little chuckle to myself when the girl in the aisle across from me spilled her water. The water comes in a clear plastic bottle with a foil top and a straw. I push the straw in, no problem. When I went to pick it up, it spilled all over my tray and my iPad. Naturally I wasn't amused. I found out too late that the plastic bottle is not sturdy so the water spewed like lava from a volcano.
Another thing is - beware of the pocket that is located high on the seat in front of you. Open your tray table before putting anything at all in it. I had put my iPad in it without checking and later saw to my horror that there was a used napkin at the bottom when I opened my tray table.
We landed as easily and without much notice as we took off. The pilot clearly is into speed! No need to really have a gradual landing, mate. Just take us down and speed down the runway as if it is endless. It all turned out well. It was definitely speedy. We got to the Malindo parking spot and alighted extremely quickly. For RM109, I'd take it again but I'd watch out for several things, like I said!
The flight attendants barely looked at the passengers getting off and didn't bother to say goodbye, but hey, who cares? I guess no one, as long as they keep their costs low.
I'm just glad to be home again, in one piece!
 |
| It's tricky to look for your seat number. You have to look right up to the brightly lit light above the overhead compartment |
 |
| Am I in the Enterprise? |
 |
| The pocket in front of you is up top so don't bother to look downwards where they usually are |
 |
| Plain Water! |
Another thing is - beware of the pocket that is located high on the seat in front of you. Open your tray table before putting anything at all in it. I had put my iPad in it without checking and later saw to my horror that there was a used napkin at the bottom when I opened my tray table.
 |
| View of pocket with tray table open. |
We landed as easily and without much notice as we took off. The pilot clearly is into speed! No need to really have a gradual landing, mate. Just take us down and speed down the runway as if it is endless. It all turned out well. It was definitely speedy. We got to the Malindo parking spot and alighted extremely quickly. For RM109, I'd take it again but I'd watch out for several things, like I said!
The flight attendants barely looked at the passengers getting off and didn't bother to say goodbye, but hey, who cares? I guess no one, as long as they keep their costs low.
I'm just glad to be home again, in one piece!
Saturday, June 15, 2013
Nose Cancer? Getting a biopsy.
continued from previous post
Following the news of nose cancer, and the stunned reaction of all of us - me, my brother who was there, and family and friends..I decided to just go have lunch. Let's go and eat sashimi. It will put me in a better mood! Perhaps..
I called a good friend who has some connections with some medical specialists and told him that my GP was going to scope my nose and do a biopsy to check for cancer. A red flag was raised immediately. Is he a specialist? No. What if I can get an ENT specialist to see you today? Would you go? Hell, yeah, if I can get in today because I have a ticket to fly home to Kelantan tomorrow. (I don't want to stay here and be away from Zoe). Let me see what I can do.
Not 15 minutes later, a call back confirmed an appointment for me at 3pm. I trekked down to the Subang Parade area with my brother who is driving in KL traffic while on a conference call with me holding a laptop for his reference. Insane...
I am greeted by smiling faces at Dr Puravi's clinic that is on the first floor of a row of shophouses, next to an Eye Clinic. They were clad in purple blazers, all of them. Many of them!! A girl with what look like burns on her face asked me,
What's your name, why are you here?
Gigi, I have nose cancer. Here's the report.
How long have you known?
The scan is from this morning, I say calmly with a wry smile.
A look of sympathy flashed across her face.
From the way you are talking, it sounds like you've known for a while. But it's just this morning? You mean today?
Yes. The scan was done this morning. I am OK. I have taken it all in already. I am ready.
Registration continued and I find out the only guy behind the counter is from Kelantan. A connection is made immediately as we started speaking our local dialect, a form of Malay very unique to our area and it commands a lot of respect when Chinese people don't sound like Chinese people trying to speak Malay. The girl with the scars who had warmed to me instantly is even more in awe now. You don't speak like a Chinese. I laughed, acknowledging the compliment.
The Indian doctor showed up shortly after I arrived. He is bespectacled, tall and slender and slightly balding. He has kind eyes.
I was second in line. The patient before me is an older woman who has had two bouts of nose cancer and is back for a check up. She had arrived about an hour ago and was just tired of waiting. Complaining loudly because she waited so long, she went in to see him. My brother is still on his conference call.
Eventually it was my turn to see the doc. He sat me down. He'd already been briefed by my good friend about my condition and diagnosis from earlier in the day. He stepped me back through some history and I have a better grip on telling my story since I have had to tell it several times already. This time I'm doing things chronologically. I walk him through. He explains that in his experience a lot of times these things that show up red in the PET/CT scan are not cancer but something else, but he will look at me.
After explaining different parts of the nose and pharynx to me, he ushered me to a chair where he can examine my nose with what looks to me like a 6 inch probe with a camera on the end. He said Look at the screen and showed me everything inside my nose.
I don't think you have cancer. In my experience, this looks to me like an ulcer. You have narrow nasal passageways, enlarged adenoids and tonsils....blah blah blah...
But please take a biopsy anyway, just for my peace of mind.
Are you sure? I really don't think it is.
I am sure. I need to know. And really for my peace of mind. The radiologist said that he was nearly 100% sure I have nose cancer.
OK.
Several of his assistants busied themselves and loomed over me. He sprayed some Afrin into my nose to numb me for the procedure. I had to wait for a few minutes before it was done. One nostril was probed with the 6 inch thing from earlier and the other was probed with slim looking pliers. Snip! He pulled something out and decided it wasn't enough. I wasn't relaxed enough and he couldn't get a good sample size for biopsy. Another stronger numbing agent was introduced.
This is going to taste really bitter.
I can take it. Let's go.
The spray was incredibly bitter and as he sprayed it in my nostrils, I tasted it in my mouth and it trickled out and also down my throat. Yep, it was bitter.
Wait 10 mins, and then spray more Afrin. And then, let's have another go at it. Dr Puravi instructed his assistants.
I started to bleed from my nose and cough up some blood clots. And apparently it was totally normal.
Before long, I was up for another try. As the probes reentered my nose, I started to cry involuntarily. The tear ducts are so close to my nasal area that this was bound to happen. And the thing bloody hurt. It was super uncomfortable to have to breathe through my nose (which is already small!) with a probe in one nostril and a pair of pliers, albeit a slender pair, in the other. Still I breathed through my nose, took a deep breath through my mouth and SNIP! Remember my high pain threshold? Still intact, but still bloody awful and painful.
A big chunk was taken out for biopsy. I've got a huge sample size, the doc declared. I am given a handful of tissues and blood started coming. I tasted blood in my mouth as well. Totally normal.
I get out of the chair with a smile and thank him. All his assistants have kind faces and they are all constantly smiling reassuringly. I sat down opposite the doc and he gave me a bit more advice on what to do going forward. After all was said and done, I told him I was really happy to have seen him on such short notice, and that he had amazing staff who were so incredibly kind and always smiling. He looked a bit perplexed, like no one had ever bothered to say something like that to him. He just nodded his head and smiled, not sure how to respond I guess.
I was truly impressed by his demeanour and calmness, his willingness to not gloss over everything and his patience to explain to me exactly what was the matter with me and how to treat what I had, assuming it wasn't nose cancer. He really changed my day around from the 100% nose cancer declaration I had got in the morning. I felt like I had some real hope when I left his clinic. But I will wait to celebrate when I know the results of the biopsy.
I wanted to tell him but I feared that my being so honest would embarrass him or make him think I was just trying to flatter him unnecessarily.
Those of you who read me here and know me will know that I am not into flattery, in whichever direction. I don't like to be flattered (when it is clearly untrue) or lie and flatter others. But I wasn't sure how he would take my sincere and heartfelt comments. So I left it at just complimenting his staff.
I now hang on to the next few days while I wait for the biopsy results with some hope that I really don't have cancer. I hope I really just have bad inflammation of my nasal pharynx area.
Following the news of nose cancer, and the stunned reaction of all of us - me, my brother who was there, and family and friends..I decided to just go have lunch. Let's go and eat sashimi. It will put me in a better mood! Perhaps..
I called a good friend who has some connections with some medical specialists and told him that my GP was going to scope my nose and do a biopsy to check for cancer. A red flag was raised immediately. Is he a specialist? No. What if I can get an ENT specialist to see you today? Would you go? Hell, yeah, if I can get in today because I have a ticket to fly home to Kelantan tomorrow. (I don't want to stay here and be away from Zoe). Let me see what I can do.
Not 15 minutes later, a call back confirmed an appointment for me at 3pm. I trekked down to the Subang Parade area with my brother who is driving in KL traffic while on a conference call with me holding a laptop for his reference. Insane...
I am greeted by smiling faces at Dr Puravi's clinic that is on the first floor of a row of shophouses, next to an Eye Clinic. They were clad in purple blazers, all of them. Many of them!! A girl with what look like burns on her face asked me,
What's your name, why are you here?
Gigi, I have nose cancer. Here's the report.
How long have you known?
The scan is from this morning, I say calmly with a wry smile.
A look of sympathy flashed across her face.
From the way you are talking, it sounds like you've known for a while. But it's just this morning? You mean today?
Yes. The scan was done this morning. I am OK. I have taken it all in already. I am ready.
Registration continued and I find out the only guy behind the counter is from Kelantan. A connection is made immediately as we started speaking our local dialect, a form of Malay very unique to our area and it commands a lot of respect when Chinese people don't sound like Chinese people trying to speak Malay. The girl with the scars who had warmed to me instantly is even more in awe now. You don't speak like a Chinese. I laughed, acknowledging the compliment.
The Indian doctor showed up shortly after I arrived. He is bespectacled, tall and slender and slightly balding. He has kind eyes.
I was second in line. The patient before me is an older woman who has had two bouts of nose cancer and is back for a check up. She had arrived about an hour ago and was just tired of waiting. Complaining loudly because she waited so long, she went in to see him. My brother is still on his conference call.
Eventually it was my turn to see the doc. He sat me down. He'd already been briefed by my good friend about my condition and diagnosis from earlier in the day. He stepped me back through some history and I have a better grip on telling my story since I have had to tell it several times already. This time I'm doing things chronologically. I walk him through. He explains that in his experience a lot of times these things that show up red in the PET/CT scan are not cancer but something else, but he will look at me.
After explaining different parts of the nose and pharynx to me, he ushered me to a chair where he can examine my nose with what looks to me like a 6 inch probe with a camera on the end. He said Look at the screen and showed me everything inside my nose.
I don't think you have cancer. In my experience, this looks to me like an ulcer. You have narrow nasal passageways, enlarged adenoids and tonsils....blah blah blah...
But please take a biopsy anyway, just for my peace of mind.
Are you sure? I really don't think it is.
I am sure. I need to know. And really for my peace of mind. The radiologist said that he was nearly 100% sure I have nose cancer.
OK.
Several of his assistants busied themselves and loomed over me. He sprayed some Afrin into my nose to numb me for the procedure. I had to wait for a few minutes before it was done. One nostril was probed with the 6 inch thing from earlier and the other was probed with slim looking pliers. Snip! He pulled something out and decided it wasn't enough. I wasn't relaxed enough and he couldn't get a good sample size for biopsy. Another stronger numbing agent was introduced.
This is going to taste really bitter.
I can take it. Let's go.
The spray was incredibly bitter and as he sprayed it in my nostrils, I tasted it in my mouth and it trickled out and also down my throat. Yep, it was bitter.
Wait 10 mins, and then spray more Afrin. And then, let's have another go at it. Dr Puravi instructed his assistants.
I started to bleed from my nose and cough up some blood clots. And apparently it was totally normal.
Before long, I was up for another try. As the probes reentered my nose, I started to cry involuntarily. The tear ducts are so close to my nasal area that this was bound to happen. And the thing bloody hurt. It was super uncomfortable to have to breathe through my nose (which is already small!) with a probe in one nostril and a pair of pliers, albeit a slender pair, in the other. Still I breathed through my nose, took a deep breath through my mouth and SNIP! Remember my high pain threshold? Still intact, but still bloody awful and painful.
A big chunk was taken out for biopsy. I've got a huge sample size, the doc declared. I am given a handful of tissues and blood started coming. I tasted blood in my mouth as well. Totally normal.
I get out of the chair with a smile and thank him. All his assistants have kind faces and they are all constantly smiling reassuringly. I sat down opposite the doc and he gave me a bit more advice on what to do going forward. After all was said and done, I told him I was really happy to have seen him on such short notice, and that he had amazing staff who were so incredibly kind and always smiling. He looked a bit perplexed, like no one had ever bothered to say something like that to him. He just nodded his head and smiled, not sure how to respond I guess.
I was truly impressed by his demeanour and calmness, his willingness to not gloss over everything and his patience to explain to me exactly what was the matter with me and how to treat what I had, assuming it wasn't nose cancer. He really changed my day around from the 100% nose cancer declaration I had got in the morning. I felt like I had some real hope when I left his clinic. But I will wait to celebrate when I know the results of the biopsy.
I wanted to tell him but I feared that my being so honest would embarrass him or make him think I was just trying to flatter him unnecessarily.
Those of you who read me here and know me will know that I am not into flattery, in whichever direction. I don't like to be flattered (when it is clearly untrue) or lie and flatter others. But I wasn't sure how he would take my sincere and heartfelt comments. So I left it at just complimenting his staff.
I now hang on to the next few days while I wait for the biopsy results with some hope that I really don't have cancer. I hope I really just have bad inflammation of my nasal pharynx area.
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