thelesbianlifestyle.com

Recently, I’ve been dealing with “the health care system”. Not something I enjoy. Even though I’ve worked for health insurance companies, even though I currently work in a health care related field, I’m not a big fan of doctors when it comes to me. In fact, I’ve lived without health insurance for the last 5 or so years, and to be honest, I’ve been happy about it because it gave me a real excuse not to go to the doctor. My version of “health care” and what most folks think of as “health care” are quite divergent.

But, that’s another post for another day. Back to current events. The last couple of months, I’ve been catching up on all those “routine” tests that we’re supposed to have, especially when you get to be a “certain age”. After I had my mammogram, they called and said I needed another one on the right because they needed “more in depth screening”. So, off I went to get squeezed again. Am I the only woman out there who thinks that repeated mashing, smashing, and twisting of soft and sensitive breast tissue isn’t exactly the best thing for its health? But. Second mammogram was still questionable. Ohhh, now I needed a “stereotactic” biopsy. The mammo center is at a hospital which is 7 blocks from my house. I walk past it fairly often. It’s a Catholic hospital that’s part of the Centura system, and recently it’s added about 100,000 square feet of state of the art ER and trauma center, and has tons of commercials about how caring they are etc. Each time I went to the mammography center, I had to double check my personal info. Each time, they had “Single” down for relationship status. Each time, I crossed through it and wrote “Partnered” on the sheet and slid it back to the admitting person with no other comment. They have my partner’s name as my emergency contact, even before my daughter.

So, I have the biopsy, and am told that I have some “atypical” cells and I have to meet with a surgeon. I guess the thing that bugs me the most about all this is they don’t suggest that I meet with the surgeon, they don’t ASK if I want to meet with a surgeon, they just call me up and say “We’ve SET THIS APPOINTMENT with this surgeon and you’re going!” Being Taurus, I really don’t like to be told what to do, even if it might be in my best interests, and I’m not totally convinced that this is. But, I agree to go and talk to the surgeon. Who turns out to be male and about 15 years old. I’ve reached that point in my life where many “authority figures” are now significantly younger than I am. Great. But, I like him, I hear him out and I agree to go ahead and let him take out the rest of the cells in the biopsy site.

Yesterday, I had to be at the hospital by 7am. My partner took me, of course, and waited while I went up to the admitting desk. As usual, they handed me that little personal information sheet, and asked me to look it over and make sure everything was correct. As my eyes wandered over to the “Relationship Status” box, I was actually amazed and stunned to see that, printed on the paper, were the words “Life Partner”. I tell you, it was not something I ever expected to see here in our little town, in a Catholic hospital.

I think it actually made the whole surgery/biopsy thing worth going through.

I know there’s a lot of stuff going on the world right now that is not pretty, and sometimes it makes us all feel very small and powerless. But sometimes, if you keep crossing out the wrong answer and putting in the right one, someone, somewhere will listen, and bit by bit, things change.

Happy May Day!

GG