Another Big Reveal

I've been calling him Dr. X-Ray.

This is because I wasn't sure if I'd end up liking him, given that accessibility blip from the first week. And I didn't want to disparage someone's real name. "____ Who Shall Remain Nameless" has already been used here.

But I know for sure that I like him now. We had our Wednesday appointment, and in doctor-patient terms, the only thing we talked about is that I don't yet have a skin reaction. (Thank You, God.) A reaction in the second week is usually bad news for the remainder of treatment, because the skin just gets worse. What's typical is that late 3rd or early 4th week, a slight burn shows up, and that this turns to a tan.

As we had nothing medical beyond this to discuss, we just chatted for about 15 minutes. I got the impression he wouldn't have minded staying there for another hour.

What did we talk about? My probing questions for him:

"Why did you become a radiology in oncology? Isn't this kind of sad work to be drawn to?"

Answer:

He likes the technology of it. He'd been an engineer for IBM before med school, and decided he didn't want to do that for the rest of his life and "Be such a nerd," pause, bashful dip of the head, "Of course, I'm still kind of a nerd."

And this isn't really the same kind of oncology as doctors like Markus sign up for. Dr. X-Ray's "really just a consultant for those guys"--gestured to other half of the cancer center--"I see patients for a short time, usually after they're already well into treatment. They're done with me before they go back to the other side and then really decline--" he looked up, as though remembering his bedside manner, and said, "Of course, you'll be fine."

Then he told the story of when he worked in Hinsdale, and he referred a 12 year old girl (who lived nearby) with a brain tumor down to Children's in Chicago. They saw her and then sent her back to Dr. X-Ray. He told them he didn't want to treat her, he wasn't a pediatric radiologist, she should be with specialists.

They told him she wasn't going to make it, but she might be able to get 6 more months, and it would be a shame if she had to spend them commuting 80 miles round trip every day for radiation. So he treated her. She made it for 3 more months. And he said then that he never wanted another case like this.

"But she did make it to Disneyworld, or Hawaii or somewhere. . .one of those Make a Wish trips." He went on to say that he now tells terminal patients who are thinking of taking a trip somewhere to "Go now, not later."

So. He's tasted this sadness before and wants no more of it. I don't blame him one bit. But it makes the Drs. like Markus shine as that much more heroic, doesn't it?

I asked Dr. X-Ray if he believes, as posters all over the cancer center and billboards all over Colorado proclaim, that "Love Heals." (That is, this is the Rocky Mountain Cancer Center's ad campaign that is quite ubiquitous: Love Heals.)

He shrugged and said, "Sure. There are studies that show terminal people will die just after a big even like a graduation or wedding and not right before." It says something when a person responds to a "what do you believe?" question with a citation of a scientific study.

Finally, I asked him a probing question when he first entered the room. The first question, reported here last of all:

"So, Dr. Tanner," because that is his name, "Do patients often comment on the appropriateness of your name?"

He laughed as though this was the first time he's heard the suggestion. No, they don't. But he's heard of other doctors with either ironic or oddly appropriate names. Right in that moment, he couldn't think of one.

And neither could I.

Isn't that annoying? When you know you've heard examples of a thing, but cannot recall them for the right moment?

I'd like to go back to him in 2 weeks (because Dr. Tanner will be working on his own tan on vacation next week) with a bunch of examples for him.

And I'm sure you know of some. . .