I learned last week that my medical oncologist is retiring this spring. It’s not a big loss for me. In a perfect world, he’s the guy who’s supposed to be the quarterback of my “cancer team,” but I’ve never trusted him in that role, and he’s never stepped up to really play it. So I guess it’s a self-fulfilling prophecy: He’s the doc I needed to be my advocate, but he couldn’t be because I didn’t let him. I was never convinced he had my best interests at heart—too aloof and patronizing.
I’ve met the other partners in the practice, and don’t care for them either. The most experienced guy in town (with another group) is booked solid, but I’m going to do what I can to get on his schedule. I don’t need to see anyone till mid-March, so I have time to work on this. I also now know a melanoma specialist in Portland, with whom I’ve had two good conversations. For the time-being, I’ll play quarterback. I’m a roll-out, options sort of guy, which I hope baffles the opposition.