The importance of the network ...

Finally, I've gained access to the blogsite. Groggy from surgery, Lisa still was able to roll her eyes and give me the password with one of those 'you weren't listening' looks. If you know Lisa, you know that she's a master of a million expressions. Even in post-op, she still has it. I'll save my post-op comments for later because I don't want to get ahead of myself.

Since her diagnosis, Lisa understood just how important having a "team" would be in her care. Literally, millions of words have been written in hundreds of books that speak to the importance of the team. However, despite all that literary effort the point is largely missed.

The team is important but not for the reasons you might think. The team is NOT important for coping with cancer. (Okay, settle down, I'm making a point.) Nope, dealing with the cancer is the easy part. The team is important for dealing with those who have chosen to work in the medical field. If you're a medical receptionist, read along, I have plenty of say and I don't really care much at this point about the security-guy at the end of the hallway.

Lisa has navigated this journey with amazing dignity and grace and, of course, with optimism. I admire this quality in her. I simply don't possess her tact in dealing with the dismissals of receptionists who have treated her as a nuisance rather than a person in need. Remember, Loni Anderson in WKRP? No platinum-blonde, high heels or emery board here. Just dis-interest.

Consider the following episodes:

** When Lisa was told that she had bilateral breast cancer, she was all alone. She entered the meeting feeling upbeat and positive because, a week before, the same Doc assured her that if the news wasn't positive he'd suggest that she bring someone along. When she received the call to review her pathology results, she felt good about things. After all, they hadn't suggested that she bring someone with her. What a setup! When she left the office, they comforted her by shaking their head and commenting about "how strong" she was. What a strong woman.

** Over the course of a few days, Lisa played a long-game of telephone tag with the oncologist in Vancouver who'd agreed to take her on as a patient. At one point, the receptionist told Lisa that "just because you've read the Doctor's book, you don't get a referral!". Demonstrating the same poise, Lisa secured the meeting-time that she sought and learned, along the way, that the young receptionist was a temp-employee! Apparently, in this business of medicine, there is an apprenticeship program in place and mastering rudeness is critical to securing full-time employment.

** Earlier the same month, Lisa met a PG-graduate from the same apprenticeship program working for her local Doc. All she needed was a signature on a referral form from her local Doc in PG in order to pave the way to see the oncologist in Vancouver. When she visited the Docs office the waiting room was empty. Lisa was told that she'd have to wait because the Doc was busy with patients. (Did I mention the waiting room was empty?) The receptionist then questioned the efficacy of the out-of-town referral because "we don't even know this Doctor" and was in the middle of reiterating just how busy the Doc was when he arrived. He greeted Lisa with a welcome smile, and while signing the referral form, gushed over Lisa's ability to have secured the services of such a well-known oncologist. "You must know some big people," he said.

I could go on but I think you get the point: it's not the cancer that needs coping with. The stress comes from resisting the urge to choke the bejesus out of those who've opted for a career in "health-care". I'm not proud to admit this but I've found myself wishing breast cancer upon snotty receptionists, thinking that maybe what they really need is to meet themselves as a patient in order to get the point.

As a wonderful footnote to all this angst, I was delighted with the way Lisa was admitted by the surgeons, the anesthesiologist and the RN's at VGH. They were, far and away, the kindest most professional of the lot. I'm hoping that as Prince George moves forward in developing it's own Cancer Clinic that some of the attitude we've witnessed in Vancouver can migrate north.

More later ...