Oncologist

 February 24, 2025

The first appointment I had after receiving my cancer news was with my oncologist, Dr Chipman. First of all, it feels really weird saying that I have an oncologist. To me, cancer is always something that's supposed to happen to older people. People who've lived their life, and their body just breaks down because they're old. I know it happens to people of all ages, I guess I just created this stereotype in my own head out of the fear of hopefully preventing it from happening to me. 

Jim came with me to this appointment for which I'm very grateful. We sat in the waiting room for a while, waiting for our turn. I remember watching the stream of people that kept coming in, and leaving the office. True to my stereotype, these were people much older than me and sicker than me. Or at least that's what I said in my own mind. Some of them very likely could have been much closer to my age than I wanted to believe. They came in with the ports and the drains, using walkers or canes, their heads wrapped in the telltale turbans and scarves. I remember feeling more and more uncomfortable in that moment, sitting there feeling like I was In picture perfect health, and I just began to feel more and more out of place like I just did not belong here. I just didn't want to be here. I felt love and compassion for these people, but definitely did not want to join them and be one of them. I felt the strong urge to get out of my chair and just run away. 

We were called back shortly after that. Doctor Chipman was kind, and at the time of this writing which is about a month after I actually had that visit, I don't remember a lot of what was said. Mostly introductions, he spoke briefly about my diagnosis and said we would need more information to stage the cancer and to figure out treatments after the surgery. Seems like maybe this appointment was a little premature, that Dr Chipman is the one who will handle things after surgery, whatever that would turn out to be. So we left, me still feeling very out of place and like I didn't belong in this slightly uncomfortable pocket of existence. I had a pickleball session to get to.

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