So there I was lying on a hospital gurney-type bed on the 8th floor of Women’s College Hospital at 7:00 a.m. To say that I was afraid would be a monumental understatement. Terror best describes the state of my persona.
In walks two tall and quite cute teeny-boppers – who then introduced themselves to me as Doctor A and Doctor B, dermatologists – the assistants to my Surgeon, Dr. Nowell Solish whom I have not yet met. Well that tells you something about my progression into Senior life.
The fact that I was even there was my fault. I had ignored what started out to be a tiny but thick dark brown freckle on the bridge of my nose – when I put on my glasses it was barely visible. So why bother? It was close to my right eye and I had been told that it wasn’t really a problem – basal cell carcinoma was very slow moving, if that is what it was.
Well, you guessed it. Three years later, my family doctor sent me to Sunnybrook Dermatology to have a look since it had grown quite a bit– and the doctor didn’t know how deep it now was.
“I can’t do this kind of surgery”, he said. “I’ll send you to the best – and it is right here in Toronto”.
After a 4 month wait, I was treated at the Mohs Skin Cancer program – unique in North America and only at Womens College Hospital. Mohs surgery and its use of state-of-the-art equipment is the most effective way to treat complex non-melanoma skin cancers, especially those on the face, where mine was. It has the highest cure rate compared to all other treatments and offers the best chance to reduce scarring or disability for patients.
All of the facts are encouraging – but when it is terror that you are feeling, logic and probability mean nothing. This is it, I am done. Why was I so stupid to ignore all the warnings?
Then at 8:00 a.m. Dr. Solish comes in. Another kid – at least he looks older than his two assistants but not by much. And here is where that overused and unappreciated term “bedside manner” comes into focus.
“Mrs. Starr, I am here to fix you”, he said with a wonderful smile and a clear voice. “I know you are scared – but I am very good at what I do!”
Would that I was 25 years younger and 25 pounds lighter I would have jumped right off that gurney and kissed him. But this was business so I just smiled at him and whispered my thanks.
Then the two teeny boppers returned and someone stuck a needle in my upper face and I felt nothing as they worked away. The way this Mohs works is that they cut as much as they think they need to – send it for analysis while you wait – and if necessary, as it was in my case – they continue cutting until it is all gone.
Four hours later I was sent home. My prognosis is good – I feel so relieved – my two year old granddaughter looked at my face and said “yucky boo –boo” which means ugly. But who cares? Thanks to great doctors and a great Ontario health care program, I expect to be okay.
So thanks to everyone involved – and to those of you reading this commentary – don’t be stupid like I was. Ignore nothing –follow up – and don’t forget to thank your doctors for caring about you even if they don’t know you.
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