As stated before, I do appreciate and respect healthcare professionals.  But sometimes …

This week was sometimes.

Second.

My darling and much loved Cousin has been having some issues, much the same as I faced some years ago – where, despite my advanced age, I was having bleeding.  My gynecologist first tried a D&C and when that didn’t work, she did an ablation (filling the uterus with hot liquid, killing the lining and leaving a scorched barren landscape – more appropriate to my age). 

I keep suggesting that my Cousin ask for an ablation.  Her (male) gynecologist decided to do a D&C (okay, I can’t bitch too much about that, my gynecologist did the same); and they found a thick, healthy endometrial lining which shouldn’t be there at all.  And yet her gynecologist keeps thinking she’ll take some pills and maybe have to have a D&C now and again.

You know, instead of dealing with it once and for all with an ablation.

As for the pills, my Cousin told him, repeatedly – NO HORMONES. 

Like me, she had a hormone sensitive form of breast cancer some years ago.  She was on Anastrozole (a hormone killer) to which her body vehemently objected (blood clots in her lungs, decreased bond density …).  Now she is on tamoxafen (?) – another hormone killer.

Her doctor prescribed Provera. Hmmmmm, I thought.

Now, I know my Cousin does not look anything up on her computer.

I, however, look up everything (clearly I have trust issues) – especially drugs at Drugs.com, I GREAT resource (I started using it when I was doing my medical transcription courses); where you can look up pretty much any drug, find out what it does, it’s side effects, and even if it plays well with other drugs you may be taking. 

So you know I looked up Provera.

A synthetic progesterone.

It’s a fucking HORMONE pill!!!!!

I called my darling Cousin right back and gave her the news.  I also suggested she should now get a new gynecologist because hers doesn’t listen, doesn’t believe her, and lied to her face.  Seems like a trifecta of good reasons to find a new doctor.

She tried calling her pharmacist (who confirmed it was a hormone); the prescribing doctor’s office (he wasn’t available); and her oncologist – whose nurse asked how many pills were prescribed – my Cousin told her, “90, and a refill for 90 more.”  The nurse exclaimed, “Why would he prescribe that?”  Good fucking question, don’t you think?  Then the nurse said to stop taking them until my Cousin could talk with a doctor.

In the meantime, my Cousin had to have surgery.  Before surgery, she showed her oncology surgeon the pills, to which the oncology surgeon said something to the effect of don’t take those, they will bring your cancer back, and I’m going to call this guy myself. 

Fuckety-fuck-fuck-fuck.

This just infuriates me. 

As the great Ragen Chastain said, “When our caregivers don’t listen to us, don’t believe us, don’t hear us, we are not receiving medical care; we are receiving veterinary care.”

… to be continued