Cancer is a Powerful Word

6 Comments

Let me tell you about some of the worst 6 hours of my life.

I took my six-month-old daughter to the doctor last week for her regular Well-Baby checkup.  Our Family Doctor, whom I adore, was busy, so it was his Physician Assistant (PA) student who did Casey’s Physical exam.  I was not impressed with the PA’s competence in conducting the exam, but didn’t press to see my doctor, as I know that my daughter is thriving and I have no concerns.  As we were leaving, the PA student mentioned that she’d like my doc to come in and re-examine Casey.  We waited 5-10 minutes, and she returned with a Resident doctor, who shut off the lights and shone his ophthalmoscope near Casey’s eyes.  Again, my spidey senses were tingling, since my daughter was watching her brother run around the exam room, her head on a swivel; not great conditions for conducting a thorough baby eye exam.  The Resident then says to me: “We are going to refer you to an Opthamologist.  We are concerned that she has a Retinoblastoma”.  My heart stopped.  As I know from Pathology and Histology classes in my Chiropractic training, a Retinoblastoma is a rapidly-developing cancer that forms in the cells of the retina, and is the most common eye cancer in children.  The Resident went on to tell me that it would be the Opthamologist ‘who would be performing the surgery’, so the next step would be to wait for the referral to go through.  I left the office stunned, a mixture of terror and despair building inside me as I tried to hide my tears and keep a brave face in front of my very-perceptive 3-year-old son.

As my panic-stricken brain began to process what was happening, I phoned my Optometrist in tears, looking for a second opinion.  Thankfully, they squeezed us in later that day, and my husband and I were both there to witness their thorough, complete exam- which included lots of distraction techniques and clever maneuvers with the ophthalmoscope to get a clear picture of a curious six-month-old’s retina.  Guess what?  SHE IS FINE.  No Retinoblastoma.  No concerns.  Without a doubt, she has two perfect little retinas.

In hindsight, I can see that it was PA and Resident examiner-error that raised the red flag during retinal testing.  And I am not upset by the information that was conveyed to me, I am upset at the manner in which it was presented.  Medical professionals have a lot of power tied to their words, and with that power comes responsibility.  It was the Resident’s responsibility to give me the full picture about Retinoblastoma’s rarity (1 in 15 000 live births), prognosis (95-98% cure rate), and differential diagnoses (examiner-error, congenital cataracts).  To tell a mother that her six-month-old may have cancer and then leave the room lacks empathy, accountability, and professionalism.  I’m happy to report that when my Family Doctor heard about what happened, he phoned me himself to apologize and use this as a learning experience for his staff- the exact outcome that I was hoping for, as I don’t want anyone else to experience the devastation that I felt that day.

So for 6 hours,  we thought our baby might have cancer.  And I can’t help but think of another mother out there who was given the same news that day, only to find out it was true.  I write this post for her, because for 6 hours I felt her pain, experienced her suffering, and understood her misery.  But we were pardoned.  We got lucky.  Our outcome was favourable.  And I wish the best for her too.

Cuddly little Casey!

My Life is Not What I Thought it Would Be

7 Comments

It was my birthday last week, September 7th.  I’m a Virgo through and through, including the positives (meticulous, reliable, practical, diligent, analytical) and the negatives (skeptical, perfectionist, inflexible, interfering).  I’m also a first-born, so between my Birth Order and my Birth Sign, I think my Type-A personality is a foregone conclusion, but I digress…..

Birthdays are always a time of contemplation for me, musing over the year that was and the year that will be.  With a birthday that usually falls during the first week of back-to-school, my birthday also signals new beginnings, exciting ‘firsts’, and changing seasons.  Here’s what my life looks like after 33 years of living and learning, and it’s not what I thought it would be:

I thought I’d be an Albertan forever.  When I moved to Toronto in August 2002, it was meant to be a four-year Chiropractic College stint, and then back to my Calgary life.  But I met my husband in January 2004 on a blind date.  Who meets their life partner on a blind date??  Me, that’s who.  So here I am in Burlington, and I love it.  This is home now.

I thought I’d still be able to play the piano.  I have a full decade of piano training, and yet I struggle to play the most basic pieces, as I have not played regularly in 15 years.  That’s about to change…… my parents are hauling my late Grandmother’s antique piano across Canada this Fall, and I will have this treasured piece of history in my house come November.

I thought I’d write a book.  A book about what, I’m not sure.  But I’ve always loved to write; from my lock-and-key diary as an 8-year-old to high school English essays to long letters to Great Aunts.  In actuality, this blog fulfills my need-to-write tendency.

I thought I’d never have kids.  Who wants to change dirty diapers?  And get up in the middle of the night to settle a crying baby?  And not be able to travel on a whim or stay out all night?  As it turns out, I do.  My family is my greatest accomplishment, and I actually do have a maternal instinct.

I thought I’d be running marathons a few times a year.  But competitive running doesn’t interest me as much as it used to.  Perhaps that’s just the life stage that I’m in, but for now I’m content to stick with 10Ks, runs with my kids in the double Chariot, and Crossfit.

I thought I’d work 9-5, wear heels, and carry a briefcase.  Instead, I wear track pants, running shoes, and my ‘Dr. Worobec, Active Sport & Health‘ shirt so that I can tell my patients not to sit 9-5, wear high heels, or carry a heavy briefcase.

I thought I’d have girlfriends that I go to brunch with every Sunday, a la Sex & The City.  In reality, my greatest friends are spread out in Washington, Calgary, Raleigh, and Kitchener, and Sunday brunches are few and far between.  In the meantime, Skype, email, and sporadic visits allow me to cherish and appreciate those friendships even more.

I thought I couldn’t be more content than I was last year on my birthday.  I am.

This is where I spent the morning of my birthday- at the Driving Range with my son and my dad. Perfect.

I have Seven Bikes in my Garage

2 Comments

My garage full of ‘stuff’.

I have seven bikes in my garage (four adult, three kid).  And two tricycles.  And a ride-on toy.  And two running strollers.  And a double stroller.  And an umbrella stroller.  And a wagon.  There is no room for a car (we’re driveway-parkers) because we have too much ‘stuff’.  Yet I am not someone who places a high value on ‘stuff’.  We have a car that’s rusty, couches that are well-worn, and I don’t care if I’m wearing Name Brands or Joe Fresh.  But somehow I have fallen into the trap of excess.

I’m trying to word this properly, because I don’t want to come off as self-righteous and complain about having this First-World problem.  Don’t get me wrong, I feel very fortunate to have all of these possessions.  But I’m trying to wrap my head around the difference between the amount of ‘stuff’ I need versus the amount of ‘stuff’ I want versus the amount of ‘stuff’ I have.

We (I am referring to the ‘Royal We’, which sometimes includes me and sometimes doesn’t) live in a society of excess, a society of materialism, and a society of ‘stuff’.  We put in extra hours at work to pay for ‘stuff’ we can’t afford, and we don’t have time to enjoy the ‘stuff’ with the people that we love.  Isn’t that ironic?  Aren’t our priorities skewed?  Out of all the blessings in my life, the thing that I value most is time with my family.  Priority one.

So I am going to uncomplicate my life a bit by getting rid of some ‘stuff’.  I think I’ll start with the garage.

**********

For those struggling to find a work/life balance, check out this song (click on the link and listen to the words as you read along!):

“Don’t Miss Your Life”
By Phil Vassar

On a plane to the West Coast, laptop on my tray
Papers spread across my seat, a big deadline to make
An older man sitting next to me said, “Sorry to intrude,
Thirty years ago my busy friend, I was you.
I made a ton of money and I climbed up the ladder,
Yeah, I was superman, not what does it matter.
I missed the first steps my daughter took
The time my son played Captain Hook in ‘Peter Pan’
I was in New York, said ‘Sorry son, Dad has to work’
I missed the father daughter dance
The first home run, no second chance
To be there when he crossed the plate
The moment’s gone now it’s too late
Fame and fortune come with a heavy price
Son, don’t miss your life.
“Funny you should say that, I was sitting at the gate
My daughter called, she made straight A’s and they’re off to celebrate.
Scrolling through the pictures of my little family
My daughter with her mom and friends, not a single one with me.
They know I love ’em, I know they know I care
The truth is half the time, I’m not even there.
I missed our fourth and fifth anniversary
Our girl was early by a week
Her sister had to hold her hand
I was in L.A., she said “I understand”
I missed her first day of school
Then what kind of crazy fool
Lets such precious moments pass
We all know time goes way too fast
Hold on tight ‘cause it don’t happen twice
Don’t miss your life.
When I get off this plane, I’ll buy a turn-around ticket
Saturday’s her eighth birthday and I’m not gonna miss it.
There’ll be balloons and birthday cake
And I’ll clean up the mess they make
My mom and dad are drivin’ in
I haven’t seen ’em in God knows when
My wife will probably say to me
“I thought you were supposed to be in Portland
For a few more days”, I’ll take her in my arms and say
“I heard some words that hit me hard last night,
A man said: ‘Don’t miss your life’.”