Chemo Barn VI

Back from the substitute doctor.

I feel for a guy in this situation. All he's got before opening the door to the exam/consultation room is a chart 2 inches thick with a name on it.

He opened the door. Saw me. Saw Laura. Said, "Hello."

I said, "Hello. I'm the patient." And I tipped my hat to him.

He wasn't sure if I meant this to be a little jokie jokie. . .

It all went pretty well. I had some questions. He knew the answers. The chairs were arranged in an "L" in the corner, with the doctor's stool between. So I was on one side of him. He faced me, and I could see Laura to his side.

I asked him a lymphedema question, and he wanted to know how many lymph nodes I'd had removed. I told him, "All of them."

He: "People have different amounts."

Me: "I think the number was 23."

He: "Oh. . .that's a bunch."

At which point, Laura rolled her eyes, a big "DUH!" written all over her face.

So, yeah, substitute doctor. Nice guy. Competent, as he was able to answer my questions in great detail. Yet. Something about him didn't seem as smart as Dr. Science.

We're back in the barn, awaiting my lab report. Once those numbers are official, they can hook me up for meds.