Much ado about nothing

The week-end was a bit too much for me. I didn’t get to bed until 3am on Friday night after the Christmas party and then late again on Saturday night after a holiday dinner at a friends. By Sunday I was done and spent the day on the couch not really being able to sleep much.

Sunday night a mild headache started in the front right of my head and stayed with me until the morning. I talked to Mum about it early Monday morning because I was worried it might be a blood clot. Last week the vein in my neck (on the right) above my permacath had swollen and a smaller vein on my shoulder had gone bright blue. The area was tense indicating a pull or a pinch to the nerve. I’ve had blue veining across my chest before when my heart was not getting very much oxygen, so I knew this was something, but not sure what. Then it went away after a few days so I thought it might have been a pull from my lifting decoration boxes last week.

I got up and got ready for the day anyways, but I had a feeling it might not work out. The homecare nurse came to clean my line and it wasn’t working very well, sluggish, and so I decided to give the hospital a call. I put all these things together and she said I should come in and get them checked out. She also asked me if my right arm was swollen and when I looked at it I could have sworn it was, but sometime we see what we want to see. About 20 minutes later I couldn’t tell the difference and wondered if I was crying wolf as we drove to the hospital.

I wonder sometimes if my health continues to be well for a period of time do I make more ado about the usual aches and pains because I'm afraid of being well. Like my mind makes up something so that I can go get checked out and assured that I'm okay? Because after a day at the hospital I slept just fine that night and have felt fine since. No bloodclots!

L.B.D

On Friday a friend asked me to go with him to his corporate Christmas party on the following Friday at the Brookstreet hotel… yes sir! Pulling a party dress out of my closet last minute was not going to be a problem until I realized “Oh shit the boob tube!”

So I headed to the mall with my mother to find a dress. Mum needed shoes for her party so we alternated stores. I wasn’t having any luck in the dress shops and my big feet were starting to turn green with envy watching my mother’s perfect size 8’s slip into anything she wanted in the shoe shops. After a couple of hours of no luck I thought I wasn't going to find anything and was getting a little run down, as I do. Id wear a nun’s habit if it came in my size and hid my permacath… its holy season!

Then I found it, the perfect little black dress - LBD! And that’s when I started to cry. I actually started to cry, and not just the misty eyes; an all out face crumple snort & sniff kinda cry. I think I was just so emotionally done by then, was subconsciously worried about what’s going on with my hair, and had resigned myself to the fact that I was going to have to wear something ho-hum just to cover up my oddities. And maybe a wig too!

I had resolved myself to just being “clothed” that when I was presented with looking my very best it was so beyond my expectations that I started crying. I guess it’s been awhile since I felt I looked and felt fabulous in anything.

So I started crying and then Mum started crying, and then I saw the price and cried a little more, and then Mum started saying “I’m going to buy it for you, you deserve to look & feel great, I'm going to buy it for you” and that’s when the sobbing became an all out scene and the poor sales lady was just so confused.

Friday morning I knew the hair was done and headed for the salon. I thought Id be going out that night in a wig, but my stylist cut it down and it seemed to look thicker. There are some noticeable thin spots on the sides of my head and at the crown where my scalp gleams through, but nothing a little bit of brown eye-shadow on the scalp can’t hide!

For me having cancer is often a daily lesson in humility, but every now and then I need a break from it. I need to pretend that nothings wrong, get dressed up go out and get noticed for my L.B.D and not my C.A.N.C.E.R

Big Fat Hairy Lie

DHAP will not make your hair fall out. “LIAR LIAR my hair is jump’n scalp like its on fire!”

Everyone (doctors, nurses, websites) told me that DHAP would not make my hair fall out. There is a list of unusual side effects that say your hair may “thin”; they need to replace that word with flee, run away, escape, take flight, leave, depart, quit, make tracks…. ‘head’ off, ‘head’ out… I'm sure you get it.

About two weeks after chemo I made a hair appointment because I actually felt like my hair was getting too long. Sixty-five dollars later I went home to show off my new do later that evening and ran my hand through my bangs and the hair came with it!

Since then it’s come out every day in clumps. My bathroom looks like I have been shaving a baboon, the cat and I have switched rolls in that he is now covered in Tam hair and needs to lint roller his ass every time he stands up, and I look like I’ve let a four year old cut chunks out of my hair with craft scissors.

I don’t know what I'm going to do? Will it stop, will it all fall out, should I shave it, should I cut it???

Who keeps ringing that bell… I can’t concentrate?

You know that ringing sound in your ears that comes soon after a rock concert and stays with you into the next day? How about two weeks? Apparently one of the less common, but very serious side effects of DHAP is ringing in the ears and hearing loss… what?... “I SAID HEARING LOSS”... yikes!

All day every day my sound in my head alters from a ringing noise (like just after a concert) which makes me talk loud to others because I feel I have to yell over the sound in my head, or white noise that sounds like static when the TV channel cuts out. The white noise bouts are worse on everyone else because I have to crank the TV, but the ringing is hard too because no one can talk at the same time or during TV because I get overwhelmed by too much sound and then can’t really hear anything well… and then I get pissed about missing what Mc Steamy said during Grey’s.

My hearing also cuts in and out like someone has a remote for my head and is messing with the volume. After two weeks the ringing and white noise has subsided, and this is the more common problem that I continue to struggle with. If the volume goes down in my head I can’t hear what people are saying to me in a coffee shop with background music and have to strain and lip read to hear what my friends are saying. And if multiple people talk at once I can’t hear either. I can’t even chose to focus on one or the other, they just cancel each other out and I hear jumble.

When the volume is turned up its hell! I tried going to the mall the other day and was overwhelmed by the sound of the crowd. Peoples cell phones would make me jump, little kids whining sounded like they were screaming, doors shutting sounded like slams and the overhead announcements had me covering my ears in pain… on top of the regular crowd conversation and holiday music.

We finally had to stop and find a pharmacy to get some ear plugs. They are perfect!!! They cut out all the external noise and allow you to comfortably focus on what the person in front of you is saying. Once I popped those bad boys in everything transformed, it was like floating through chaos blissfully unaware. I keep a set in my purse now all the time, because I still can’t handle how loud a theater movie is, but I have to say this is the way to get your Christmas shopping done in a mall, hearing impaired or not!

Feverish Celebration

Well I made it until the wee hours of Monday morning (day 12) before the fever hit at 3am. It was low and I felt perfectly fine so I waited until 4 am to call it in. The on-call doctor said I could take my time coming in so I went back to bed and woke Mum up for 5am still feeling good. On the drive in I started to feel hot and sick and by check-in at Emerg at 5:45am I was almost passing out. My face was burning so hot that I had a bag of ice on it that my mother had to hold in place and the nurses had to change about 4-5 times because it kept melting that morning.

Emerg did the bloodwork and started me on general antibiotics while we waited for results and admitting. They had me admitted from Emerg into a bed in Hematology in an hour (awesome!) and that’s when they told me Id be there for a couple of “days”. I didn’t even bring a bag because I thought Id go in, get some antibiotics and be sent home in a couple of hours. That’s about the time I got “grumpy”… that’s not the word my mother would use, but her version is indecent and totally over exaggerated!

My neutrophils were .3 so no wonder I felt like shit. I slept most of the morning so I sent Mum home with a 3 page list of stuff to get and instructions on how to wash my laundry that I just had to have for my stay (apparently I'm a vicious dictator when I'm feverish) .

Did I mention it was my birthday? Did I mention I was dirty and hairy? With collection on Tuesday and I wasn’t feeling good Sunday night (now I know why) I had planned to take a proper shower Monday to wash my hair and shave my legs, in preparation for Tuesday. No luck! And of course everyone wanted to look at my legs to see if they were swollen, and wouldn’t take my word for it.

It gets better… bring on the ass exam! That’s right I got the same thing for my birthday this year as last year – sadistic or what! I guess a few days back when I got a little (a lot) dried up, I tore inside and that created a source for infection to get into the blood… “the body’s cell count is just so low it can’t handle its own issues” no shit!

When I set out for the hospital that morning I thought it might be a few hours – the routine fever. Get some blood work, antibiotics, go home. Nope I went in on my birthday a hot vicious laundry Nazi with hairy legs, a sore ass and greasy hair and in return I got an all-inclusive stay, antibiotics and an ass exam! Oh ya and cake… they gave me a piece of cake for lunch. It was a celebration after all.

Fever Watch

Met with a doctor (one of the randoms I now see in the BMT clinic) on Friday for my post-chemo follow up appointment on day 9 of my 14day schedule that makes up the Stem Cell Collection Phase.

Day 1 & 2 are chemo days (done) and then we wait 7 days while my blood counts steadily drop all the while taking injections to grow stem cells at the same time. By day 11 & 12 my counts are at their lowest and the stem cells are at their highest, so then we collect day 13 & 14.

BMT likes to meet with the patient on day 9 to check for fever and caution them to be on constant fever watch for days 10, 11 & 12 until Tuesday’s collection.

Apparently almost everyone gets the fever because their counts are just so low they can’t fight off any bugs. But it’s more about all the bugs and bacteria we already have in our bodies that will lead to infection and fever than the risk of picking bugs up from someone else. The body’s cell count is just so low it can’t handle its own issues.

Well I'm full of un-handled issues (ha!)... so I'm on fever watch:

Side Effects, Direct Effects… Cure Effects?

This past week it’s been all out about the side effects, which really in the grand scheme of things are not that bad.

I noticed yesterday that the itching behind my knees had stopped and that I have been able to drink more and more on my own again. The itching started up again over the Fall and I just knew that the cancer was active and that the next CAT would show growth; it’s always been my key symptom. Wonder what this means?

Itchy legs all night has been replaced with hot flashes. I have had them in the past from the lymphoma and a drug called Lupron that I take, but WOW are they back!!! It’s a burning heat that radiates from within that makes me want to chug a slushy and shove a Popsicle up my ass – anything to cool the insides of me down!

After chemo brushing my teeth is a miserable experience for days because the toothpaste tastes disgusting to me. I mentioned this to my Aunt and she was like switch the flavor – duh! I switched from mint to cinnamon OMG I can’t tell you how stupid I feel. All last year during chemo I would dread the days every two weeks when toothpaste made me gag twice a day, but never once did I think about switching the flavor. This is why one needs caregivers, you’re too stupid to help yourself sometimes!

I let my bowels get dried up again just like last time and have really hurt myself when eventually I did go. As the nurse put it, like passing a concrete brick – ouch! I'm taking a spoon full of aloevera juice every morning now that is sure to make things softer, but the damage is done. No one knows that this is the most common hidden ailment for people on chemo; everyone thinks it’s the puking – nope other end!

This blast of chemo really dried me up inside and out; and I'm used to combating chemo skin with an arsenal of expensive oils and creams, but I still peeled. My face has been peeling all week, especially around the eyes, which makes it impossible to put cover up on. It’s not like after a sunburn, more like the delicate surface of a fish when you touch it and scales rub off – really gross!

If anyone has anything to say about it I won’t know, I can’t hear them. A ringing started in my ears a week ago that wont let up. Sometimes it’s ringing other times it’s white noise (like static), either way it’s consistent. It’s starting to wear me down and makes every task harder when your head is a jumble of sound.

I lay around allot. Just waking up and getting breakfast feels like a marathon most mornings. And I have to remember to rise slowly to let my blood pressure catch up. It’s still very low and I have daily “faint” episodes that keep me horizontal. It’s getting better the more I drink on my own.

Cancer now has very little effect on my body, it’s the cure that’s affecting me terribly!

What's in your Designer Bag? A bag of Saline - you?

They wanted me to carry my bag of saline around in a fanny pack… I don’t thinks so! I had the perfect little Jimmy Choo bag that went with me everywhere because that’s where my bag of saline went with me – everywhere!

Day 3&4: looked worse than it was!

I think we did something really smart in that we followed a strict medication, foods & fluids schedule. With nausea and pain (I was still sore from the permacath) it’s important to stay ahead of the feeling by have the medication steady in your body.

Every morning my Aunt woke me up at 7 am to take my nausea meds with a bowl of oatmeal in bed. Then I slept until the next pill around the time the nurse would come and change my bag of saline. I didn’t feel like eating much because of the metal taste in my mouth, but my Aunt made sure I ate just enough and drank just enough at the right times. We also set my alarm in the middle of the night to take my pills. So I never went too long and I have to say this big bad blast of chemo went better than expected.

This type of chemo (DHAP) can be really hard on your kidneys so they order at home hydration for you for about 3 days after chemo. I stayed on it for 7 (plus I had already been on it for 3 or 4 by that point) because of blood pressure levels and I'm not a very good drinker after chemo. I knew Id never be able to gulp down the 8+ glasses of water a day required to care for my kidneys, so I stayed on the hydration to "puff" me out... I mean help me out.

Chemo Day2: 3hrs of something toxic in the morning, break for 5hrs then come back for 2hrs of something toxic that evening.

I slept for the morning chemo because it was an early start and then lay around the house for the afternoon until part two at 5 pm. I was tired, but not nauseous yet; I did have the metal taste in my mouth though. I don’t really remember part two except that I was starting to feel nauseas by the end of the day and asked for a Stemetil injection to be proactive; not a good idea!
I forgot that Stemetil is the anti-nausea drug that makes me feel strung out and twitchy like a junkie. It’s worse than being nauseous, because I shake, twitch and feel the need to pace the room like a character from TrainSpotting waiting for the dealer to arrive. It’s a miserable existence that you can only ride out once it’s in you.

Chemo Day1: 8hrs of “platinum”... but I'm worth it!

I took a wonder drug called Emend just before treatment started. It is the latest anti-nauseous drug out on the market. It cost me $130. for 3 pills (3 days). It was supposed to be covered but "surprise surprise", someone at the hospital didn’t put in my application soon enough, along with my Nepogen and so I had to pay for the Emend. It was worth every penny though!!! (but I'm working on getting those pennies back)

The chemo made me very hyper and I had trouble sticking to any one task (reading, movies, email) so I mostly socialized. Later in the day my legs felt like they were going numb, as if I had rubber bands tied at the top of my legs. There was nothing wrong with my legs and they looked just fine, but the sensation was really messing with my head and I kept getting up to shake them out. By the end of the day the sensation was making me a little crazy and I jogged on the spot for about an hour straight that evening at home watching TV.

How low can she go?

(just above coma - nice!)

I forgot to mention that I did have a little fainting incident on the way out of the hospital after my permacath insertion, but then again I'm a fainter so what else is new. I'm also a low blood pressure kinda gal, but this day my BP dropped to 52/65, normal is about 120/80 – my normal is about 70/100 if I'm lucky. So I Lay down had some toast and peanut butter and was sent home. On the way home I begged Mum to stop for chips, Pringles. I never eat chips, I'm a chocolate girl… little did I know my body was craving salt.

I ate the whole tube for dinner. In the middle of the night I got up to go to the bathroom and almost fainted again. In the morning I almost went down again when the nurse came to change my bandage, again with the low BP. So we called the hospital and they asked me to come in so they could investigate the permacath but really only found a fast heart rate and very low BP. The doctors decided to start me on hydration at home the following day.

A paramedic friend of mine suggested it might be something called a vagal response, which as something to do with the Vagus nerve getting compressed and lowering your pulse and BP at the same time which causes you to feel faint. I looked it up and the spot on the nerve is right above where my Permacath enters the artery in my neck. Maybe it’s pushing on that?

On the way home from the hospital I placed what was likely my 10th phone call in two days to the CT scan booking office asking them where my CAT scan was. They said they didn’t get the request from the coordinator (no shit) until the day before, but they could squeeze me in on the 12th. I asked her to read the part again about it being urgent that I have a scan before the 12th because I start chemo, and they asked me to come right over. So we turned the car around and drove back to the hospital.

I drank the contrast dye over the course of two hours prior to the exam but the technician couldn’t get a line into me to inject the dye. And they are not allowed to use permacaths for dye. I still did the scan, but I was disappointed that the scan will not be as detailed as it could be. When these things happen I feel so disappointed in myself, I can’t help it – damn my veins for giving out on me, damn my low blood pressure, damn my fainting, damn my cancer. The ultimate betrayal was the cancer, so I feel like my body owes it to me not to let me down with all the little things.

What does one boob, "happy juice" & Bob Marley have in common = A Permacath!

Today was relatively easy mostly because I just told myself it would be - and it was! There could have been lots of things to get concerned or wigged out about, but I chose to just roll with it and it was all good! I didn`t even know what a Permacath was exactly or what it would look like – but I gotta have it so who cares.
I did have some trouble getting an IV line in my hand. I told the nurse she should go to the last spot I have in my hand that gives blood but it quickly turned into credentials war ``I’ve been a nurse for...`` ya well ``I’ve been a patient for...`` and of course I lost the fight so three painful tries later we got a line in – in the spot I had originally suggested. So I guess I won the war... Id gloat but my hands are too sore to type much!

The surgery was orchestrated by a room full of male nurses and doctors - and my exposed boob! There was allot of prep and cleaning and then it all gets fuzzy. I do remember the flesh freezing needles, they hurt quite a bit but then the IV `happy juice` kicked in and everything was good or should I say ``everyting was irie``. It seems to me that the whole thing took about 10 minutes, but I don`t recall anything about those 10 minutes. It`s as if I am aware that they happened and I was present but I can`t remember a thing about that time. And in fact it was probably more like 20 minutes had passed but my perception of time is off too.

On the way out I was feeling pretty good and couldn`t stop singing ``I shot the Sherriff`` in my best Bob Marley voice over and over again. I guess it`s a successful surgery when you get a room full of men handling your gear and you come out singing reggae tunes!

On the way home it occurred to us that I wasn`t given any postcare instructions... with all that singing I forgot to ask. How am I going to wash around this hardware? When do these stitches come out? Who takes them out? The HomeCare nurse is coming tomorrow to change my dressing and flush my new line; I hope she knows... maybe if I sing her a little Bobby?

I've got Lady Luck on my side!

I tried to party as much as I could before treatment started up again! Happy Halloween!

This Ass is kick'n Ass and takin names!

The coordinator called today to tell me the November start date she gave me last week was tentative (bullshit) and that we are just going to have to start November 12th (you’re an ass) and that’s just the way it is (I'm going to kick your ass) so we shall see you on the 12th (Sucks to be my ass!).

She saw me the very next day “surprise” here is my list of demands. In a round about way I put it to her that I was going to accept the November 12th start date (like I had a choice) quietly but that I really wanted a new CAT scan to assess where my disease is currently at and that I also wanted my permacath put in ASAP before all the needles started.

I want to see if my cancer has grown or spread since my August results. If so I don’t have any problems throwing the word “negligent” around to the hospital administers and anyone else who needs to know. It’s about time I start looking out for my own ass!

Who's the Horse's Ass now?

After my September meeting I didn’t here from anybody at the hospital about a start date, but I didn’t call them either. I knew that we had agreed that I would start mid-October, but calling to ask exactly when I start was really hard for me. It was like calling to book a flogging, no thanks!

I waited about a week after returning from Toronto expecting to go into treatment anyday and then finally called the BMT office myself to see what was what. The coordinator told me that since I had asked for a second opinion at another hospital I had been taken off the BMT list because I wasn’t considered “committed” and they were now scheduling for end of November. That’s total bullshit and I had a series of meltdowns over several phone calls back and forth.

The only reason my doctor agreed to refer me for the second opinion was because I made the case that I was still committed to going ahead with the treatment here and I just really wanted to know what the protocol was like elsewhere – but that unless they had margarita service by men in Speedos at the other hospital, I was going ahead here mid-October. And in-fact you are not allowed to have treatment in another city that you do not live in provided the city you live has the proper facilities – which mine does. So everyone knows I can’t damn well have treatment anywhere else.

I think they screwed up and tried to place the blame on the patient; which the coordinator did a great job of that telling me that I aught to have known this would happen and pointed out the original delay from October 1st to mid-October was mine. She played into all my fears as I sobbed over the phone that no one told me this could happen otherwise I wouldn’t have done it, every day my cancer is growing, what if this delay affects my outcome – my god what have I done.

Well she pulled out the “that’s right you screwed up sweetheart card, but I'm gonna help you out” card and managed to squeeze me in for a November 6th start date. I thanked her profusely for saving my ass. Only after a day of shaking and crying did I start to recall the September conversation with my doctor and the things other nurses had said and realized this was a booking error, not a Tam error. That coordinator was the one that got my ass into this situation, and now I feel like an ass for thanking her when she “fixed” it.

But that doesn’t change anything, if there’s no room at the inn, there’s no room inn. So I wait… but now I'm pissed… I wish I could kick some coordinator ass!
Ass, Ass, Ass!

Costly Opinions

Mum and I drove to Toronto for a second opinion on my proposed treatment outline here in Ottawa. The drive up was fun in that I got the special edition CD of Sergeant Peppers Lonely Hearts Club Band to sing along to for the drive.

The Princess Margret Cancer center was pretty swanky, but packed full of people which always makes me sad that so many are afflicted with cancer. The doctors that I saw were like the designer guys and they had pretty much the same thing to say as the doctors here, but with way more style and flair!

One thing they did mention was that my CAT scan from Aug 25th is now out of date and I really should have a new one to get a current picture of where my disease is at before I start my treatment. I'm not big on extra radiation, so we shall see what the doctors here have to say about that.

Driving home the following day it was a perfect Fall day so we took the old hwy through all the country and stopped in one town for a massive Fall Fair. We both love Fall, fairs and the smell of barn animals (ha!) so it was to be the highlight of our trip. Sadly the hwy patrol officer that caught Mum doing 55 over the speed limit (and failure to show insurance) kinda soured the day and trip budget.

Revenge of the ChemoBrain - Part Duex

I came home today to find my Mum opening a package; a gift from my Aunt. I said “that’s nice, why did she get you a gift?” I just burst into tears when she said it was her birthday tomorrow. I was so upset, embarrassed and angry. Not only had I forgotten her birthday, I couldn't even remember when it was even when I tried to think about it. The information was just gone, it was as if I never had it.

I'm forgetting very basic fundamental pieces of information all the time now. It’s very scary.

Two days ago I drove to the bank to pay my monthly line of credit and forgot my pin number. I tried everything I could think of, which only managed to shut down my card. Yesterday I had to go into the bank and explain why I couldn’t remember my own pin to get it reset. On the way home I couldn’t remember how old I was, and had to seriously think about whether I was 28 or 29.

It's time for Lymphomanics!!!

I haven’t been blogging for awhile, but I have a couple posts to put up to fill in the blanks - coming soon. I didn’t completely abandon my cancer world, I was just focused on other aspects of it for awhile.

Last year I joined the local LSGO (Lymphoma Support Group of Ottawa) and after attending a couple of their meetings I volunteered to do a couple of things for them to get ready for the following year of meetings; like putting together their monthly meeting flyers to post in the hospital. I have also been working on putting together a proposal to start a young adult chapter of the LSGO called Lymphomanics.

The group will meet quarterly for an informal social, or meet & greet if you will. The goal is to create a setting where young adults (a major demographic for Lymphoma patients, especially Hodgkins patients) can get together in a ‘no-pressure to share your feelings, be bombarded with medical information, try to identify with 60 year old patients or listen to stupid lectures environment’, and just get to know someone else who is going through (or gone through) the same things you are. All this in the hopes that people will exchange numbers or emails and keep in contact with each other for support.

I don’t know about the rest of the world but here in my neck of the woods it is very hard to find another young adult with Lymphoma to identify with, it’s all old patients, doctors, nurses and therapists! I need someone who understands about losing my hair, my identity, my social life, paying bills, not having insurance, gaining weight, feeling like no one will ever want to have sex with you again and watching all your friends lives progress around you. A ‘60 year old married man, with grown kids, grandkids, income, pension, savings, insurance, stopped having sex 10 years ago and didn’t have any hair to speak of anyways’ is just not going to get my cancer woes.

Young adults need to support other young adults the way we wish we could be supported. So that’s what I’ve been working on:)

BMT#1234 - 5'10" - F - xxlb - DOB 11.23.80 - 29 - Hodgkin's Disease - Nodular Sclerosis - Name: not important!

The BMT (bone marrow transplant) planning meeting was pretty uneventful. It was with a different doctor who explained to me that my care is switching departments and I am now under the BMT department which consists of seeing whoever is available as I am managed by a team now. The doctor wanted me to start treatment in two weeks which I told her was impossible. I have so much work to wrap-up, care to set up, benefits to get reinstated and I want a second opinion on the treatment outline. So we decided I would start mid-October.

I spoke with my hematologist about getting a referral for a second opinion in T.O. He was reluctant and really tried to talk me out of it, but I explained to him it wasn’t personal and it was just something I had to do for my peace of mind. I also want to make sure that I'm getting the treatment I need, and not just the treatment that is available. Doctors are not very receptive to this.

I'm feeling a little abandoned by the people that have been treating me. Now that I'm part of the BMT clinic I have new doctors and a new social worker. That will be the third social worker I have spoken with throughout my treatment. I have the best rapport with my current social worker, I don’t want to switch to anyone else; same thing with my hematologist. I’ve spent almost 2 years establish a trust with these people and now when I need the benefits of that relationship and trust I'm switched to new people; and they wonder why I want a second opinion – way to make me feel like a number!