Crossings

I said earlier that I would not write a cancer blog.

That’s a commitment I’m keeping.

I am well….and will continue to be well.  So, let’s just get that out of the way right now.

But.  Along the way there were a couple of bumps.

And, I think that this is such a terrific tale of caring, generosity, intelligence and outcome that I am compelled to tell you about it.  It’s a little bit about me but more about others.

So please imagine:

One has been given great news following one’s surgery but then one gets a bunch of weird, crappy news from the (first) oncologist one sees.  One doesn’t know quite how to assimilate that.  So, what does one do?

Well, one immediately calls the person who owned one’s house before one moved into it, who now lives in California, who was, and still is, a respected radiological oncologist.  She will now be known as the (second) oncologist.

That (second) oncologist says she will call a friend, the (third) oncologist, who lives in one’s town, to tell that (third) oncologist that her friend, and the person who now lives in her old house, is in a pickle.

Now, at that moment the (third) oncologist is driving to the mountains of North Carolina, in the middle of a fierce hail storm. Multi-tasking, he is tele-conferenced into a “tumor board” meeting where a case is being discussed.  There are no names.  Just factual discussion.  The (third) oncologist has a very different opinion on the case from the presenting oncologist and calls in to the meeting to offer his dissenting opinion.

Moments later, the (third) oncologist, (the one who’s on his way to North Carolina), gets a phone call from the California (second) oncologist expressing her concerns about the decision made regarding her friend by the (first) oncologist.  (Are you still with me?)

The (third) oncologist, who is trying like crazy to avoid driving off the edge of the road in the midst of a major storm, listens to the (second) oncologist and says:  “Unbelievably, I think the tumor board meeting I’ve been monitoring has just been discussing this person.  I think the (first) oncologist who saw her and, who apparently, was presenting her stuff is dead wrong. Who in the world is this person anyway?  And why is everyone talking about her?”

Well, if you were able to follow that, you’ve figured out that unidentified person was yours truly.

And perhaps you can feel a little of our roller-coaster ride.  We were holding on tight.  The highs and the lows were pretty extreme.

Three days later, I met with the local (third) oncologist, whose office and staff can only be described, understatedly, as remarkable.

And it has come to pass that all is well.  Decisions. Thoughtful, caring, intelligent and healthy decisions were made as a result of that chaotic and unscheduled set of crossings.

I believe, firmly, that none of those meetings, conversations, storms, time-differences, phone-calls were coincidental.  I believe that they were purposeful, intended, and God-given.

I am in awe of the synchronicity of all that.

The world is so small.  So vast.  And, sometimes, so good.