Day 715
Well, my father has been discharged with a generally clean bill of health! Hooray!
I got to sit in on the endoscopy via my short white coat powers and I have to say everything looked beautiful. Textbook actually. Now I can say I know my father inside and out.
The GI doc concluded that the pain must be coming from a spasm of the lower esophageal sphincter. Of course we have no hard evidence for this but I suppose it’s a diagnosis of exclusion.
Prior to this, my car broke down on the other side of town. Not comforting on the day before the biggest test of my life. But I have to thank my parents for keeping things in perspective for me. Wonderful folks those two. I will say I have been a little anxious off and on today for the exam. Not so much my mind as my body. I can feel my sympathetic nervous system kick in prematurely. My stomach feels topsy turnvy.
It’s been interesting seeing my dad as a patient these past few days. The difference in our perspectives. Me teaching him something for once in my life. My mother has a medical background and understands quite a bit more. My dad, a master of language, the written and spoken word, an engineer of arguments, is paralyzed by the sight of needles and vaguely knows where his vital organs are located. Explaining to him, on the previous day, the anatomy of his upper GI track and what possible pathology would exist, I assumed he was as comfortable with the aspects of his medical issue as I was. Coming out of the endoscopy however, he expressed a relief at the fact that no terrible cancer was found. I was really surprised at his surprise, even after my endless reassuring. It made me realize the stigma medical procedures carry in society. For me, this endoscopy was routine, a sister procedure to the countless bronchoscopies I observed in my first year. For my father, and probably a lot of other people, this is the exact scenario you hear about on TV or from a family friend on how they first discovered their carcinoma and a precursor to a long road of chemotherapy and maybe even death. Thinking about it now, I wish the doctor on my dad’s case would have explained things to him better. I wish he would have asked him if he was worried about anything they might find and presented all the possible pathologies. I don’t think it would have taken more than 15 minutes. I suppose this is a learning experience though, for me more than anyone else. I’m sure it will make me a better physician.
