#TMIFiles: The Typo in These Foolish Things

I didn’t want to leave you hanging since you sent me suuuuuch great juju notes on my last entry.

Had an INSANE day yesterday - my mind was spinning with all kinds of thoughts ranging from, “I wonder if the cancer treatment actually worked?” to “Am I dying?” to “How am I going to get my work project finalized before the end of the day??”

Yesterday I had the appointment with my oncologist to go over the results of my post-chemo CT scans of chest, abdomen and pelvis to see how I looked after treatment. I was nervous as shit, but decided not to take my normal pre-cancer-center Valium. I was gonna ride this one out.

When I got to the cancer center, everything was running smoothly - checked in, blood drawn, nurse checking vitals, boom, boom, BOOM. And even Hot Onc was ultra prompt! He came in, sat down and asked me how I was doing since last we spoke and then he asked me if I’d seen the results of my scan, knowing that they were sitting there in my patient portal.

I told him no, that I didn’t want to go over the results by myself because I might see something in there that would freak me out. And he said, “Yeah, that’s why I don’t like sending reports to patients before we’ve had a chance to talk…”

And he proceeded to tell me that my results had a typo.

[pregnant pause]

A REALLY MAJOR typo.

Bottom line is that the report summary actually read like this: “Findings of new metastatic disease in the chest, abdomen, pelvis”

Then he took his pen out and told me that what it should have read was, “NO findings of new metastatic disease in the chest, abdomen, or pelvis.”

And he wrote “NO” in big, bold letters on the printout and gave it to me.

And I started crying.

Not because I was scared about the results and if they were real (because Hot Onc immediately tried to console me and tell me that he’d checked over and over and consulted with the radiologist and confirmed and confirmed that there was no sign of cancer), but because I was thinking about the ME who, before cancer diagnosis, would not have been able to resist opening that document.

I would have ended up in a big heap on the bathroom floor - likely for days on end.

I cried for that poor person. I remembered the day I googled something that the stupid scheduler told me after my colon resection surgery as we were scheduling my follow-up. I hung up the phone, pulled the car over in my favorite park and was on a park bench googling that shit. And when I saw Dr. Google’s prognosis, I sunk as low as I’ve ever sunk in my whole life. I was as good as dead on that bench at that moment. I remembered her and I cried for her.

Two little letters.

All the difference in the WORLD.

But I’m here to tell you that at this very moment…

I AM CANCER FREE.

How do you like that report?

Still standing,
GS

Last updated October 21, 2021