Let me just say that my Oncologist is good … and by good I mean he listens, doesn’t over prescribe drugs and looks like he is trying to keep me alive, not make money.
Of course he makes a ton of money but dead men pay late so I believe it is in his best interest to keep me alive, not to keep me dead.
ON the other hand, some Dr’s appear casual and detached … to the point that I want to beat the fucking shit out of them with something close by – like a nurse.
Anything out of the ordinary during a six month chemo event is cause for alarm. Early on cause for alarms are frequent since you have no earthly idea what to expect. So two and half weeks after treatment round 2 I break out with some funky rash all over my body that make me looks like a Pomegranate with a dick.
It had not yet come on my face (which reminds me of that scene in the movie Body Double where Melanie Griffith as porn star Holly Body describes her porn scene rules … “Holly Body: I do not do animal acts. I do not do S&M or any variations of that particular bent, no water sports either. I will not shave my pussy, no fistfucking and absolutely no coming in my face.”
… Classic …
Anyway I am in the after-hours Cancer Clinic seeing the Dr. (not my regular Dr.) about the rash. I am on full tilt seeing as I have enough to worry about without looking like some anorexic, measles motherfucker with a rash over 70% of my body – with the rash poised like it wants to make a Holly Body against-the-rules face splash.
This is what the Dr and I talked about with of course my inner monologue in parenthesis describing what I wanted to say:
Dr. That’s quite the rash
Me: Thanks (asshole)
Dr: What caused it?
Me: I am on Rituxon and Bendamustine (Is that my medical chart in your hand that you didn’t read?)
Dr: I’m not sure those drug could cause the rash two and half weeks after treatment
Me: Oh (Maybe I made the whole fucking thing up then Dr. Fuckface)
Dr: I am googling those two drugs and rash and not getting anything.
Me: Oh (Are you fucking shitting me? You went to Medical School for 8 years and have been an Oncologist for 10 years and you googled something? I went to a local State College and was high as shit for three out of the four years there and already thought of a web search … and I got 10,000 hits which is why I fucking came into this fucking after-hours sled ride in the fucking first place you fucking shit for fucking brains.)
Dr: Yeah … … … nothing (You’re not googling dogshit you perverted fuck)
I don’t say anything at this point. It takes a lot to amaze me but sitting in an after-hours Cancer Clinic with a rash crawling all over me like some penniless whore and having the Dr. google – while I am in the room – his potential prognosis is a new one. I might as well go to the Alternative Health Shop in the Strip Mall next to the Subway’s and have the “Doctor” there tell me to ‘take more zinc’.
So I just said …
Well let me know if you get any hits.
Then he left the room and while he was gone, I rubbed the reddest, nastiest parts of my rash all over his Mouse and Keyboard.
Google some more Dr. … what was it? … oh yeah … Dr Fuckface.
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