Wednesday, July 16, 2014

I Don't Suppose I Could Have a Third Opinion

In retrospect, I was a moron. It was probably unreasonable to to think that when the oncologist tells you that there's not a whole lot that can be done, that they don't know precisely what they're talking about. But a) I've spent a long time supporting health care research and I believe in science, and b) if some doctor told you it was a coin toss as to whether you made it another two years, wouldn't you want to ask someone else? So it was time to explore what the Seattle Cancer Care Alliance's science-based treatment (at least that's how it's presented) might be able to offer. 

Ultimately, the answer was, nothing. But we should probably back up.

When it came time to see Oncologist #2 at the SCCA, I elected to take Sib4 as my secondary listener in place of my S2BXS. Sib4 had spent the intervening weeks collecting numerous academic papers talking about possible cures for metastatic colon cancer, and I was frankly losing track. There was a liver transplant in Croatia, some heat-based thing happening in Germany, and, at least slightly closer to home, some promising clinical trial happening at Sloan-Kettering. Sib4 was convinced that one of these options would cure me, but I couldn't keep the details straight long enough to remember what questions she wanted me to ask. So I figured I'd bring her to the appointment so she could ask the oncologist herself.*

Checking in at SCCA was a far cry from Group Health. Where Group Health had a small waiting room with no one in it, the waiting room just for GI cancers at SCCA occupied the complete side of the building (with an amazing view of Lake Union) and was full of people. This was a cancer machine, and at least for the time in the waiting room that seemed promising. 

Not so much. SCCA may be a cancer machine, but it turned out to be a machine that had little to offer me. Oncologist #2 instead confirmed that the treatment proposed by Oncologist #1 was the only treatment available. There were no other options at this stage of the treatment, though if I responded positively to phase one of the treatment there might be a clinical trial or other possibilities that might come into play. However, since the treatment SCCA could offer in the first phase wouldn't differ than what Group Health could offer, there was no way the financial gurus at Group Health would authorize treatment at SCCA. They'd been down that road before, and it wasn't worth the energy to fight the battle as they'd certainly lose. Oncologist #2 could agree to be available for future consults with Oncologist #1 as major milestones in my treatment were reached (or not), but that was the best SCCA could do for me. 

He obviously didn't put it quite this way, and he, no doubt, would object, but the conclusion I drew from the conversation with Oncologist #2 was basically, "Yup, you're fucked." 

I've spent most of my career working in support of science. It strikes me as a little sad that science didn't seem to be all that interested in returning the favor. 


* The worst part of the appointment was when Sib4 got her opportunity to ask her questions. She went study by study and listened to Oncologist #2 explain in each case why what she found wouldn't, or couldn't, apply to me. By her nature, Sib4 is an optimistic person who I'm pretty sure was convinced that somewhere in all her papers she'd found the miracle cure. For my sake (obviously) and hers, I wish she hadn't had to be so thoroughly disappointed. 

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