My Doctor, The Mechanic.


I can’t help feel that my experience with western medicine in finding out I have Low-Grade Fibromyxoid Sarcoma feels similar to when I take my car into a mechanic to have a “weird thing” looked at.

My leg had a bump, like my car may have a thumpy noise or a periodic clunk. I try to ignore these problems at first; denial is always the best policy early on as occasionally the worry just goes away on its own and then one need only make the appropriate sacrifices to the Gods to thank Them for removing that stress. But usually the problem lingers and finally I have to admit the worry has gotten to me and I go to an “expert” to be told what is wrong with me, or my car.

And just like the mechanic, the doctor tells me some possibilities it could be, usually dropping in a doozy in the middle of more benign suspicions. “If you are unlucky it could mean I will have to chop your leg off/remove your entire engine, and just hope for the best. But I’m sure it’s not that. Don’t worry.”

So I leave with a measure of fear now in my heart. I vow to make new sacrifices to the Gods, promise to be a better person, to take care of myself, or my car better from now on! Please let this be nothing big.

And then comes the call. They have taken a look and they saw something not so great. Better come in and see us.
When I arrive, they look at me with great concern in their faces. “You have cancer/ Your car needs an expensive repair.” And the news hits me right in the gut. This can’t be happening! I can’t afford this! No no no no! And I look at the concerned mechanic/doctor and wonder… was there REALLY something wrong? Did they go looking for trouble because that is how they make a living, that is what they do with their day, look for trouble to fix?

So I go home and get on the internet and try to find out if this possibly could be the simplest and only way. How did they get to this place of dire consequence?  And at the end of the day, I just don’t know enough to say for sure they are right or wrong, so I decide they MUST have my best interests at heart and I grimly nod and tell them to go ahead, preparing myself for the shock to my bank account or my body.

I just hope I don’t wake from my surgery and hear my doctor tell me that while they were in there they found out my water pump is shot, and my bearings are going and I will need a lot more work. Sometimes you just have to say no thanks, and drive on out of there and hope for the best.

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8 comments on “My Doctor, The Mechanic.

  1. Sweet Kerri,
    Our cars and bodies are things we seem to have little control over. You know we take them for the oil changes, yearly tire rotation etc but without fail something will happen. Our bodies are no different, we eat organic, exercise and have physicals, but eventually they need some major work too.
    Thankfully mechanics and dr’s offer us longer loves for our vehicles and bodies.
    Sending you lots of love sweets!

    • Thank you hon. 🙂
      Uh… oil change, tire rotation? Eat organic, exercise, physicals. Ehm,… of course… I do all that! Yep. lol
      I think the phrase “driving it into the ground” may be a little too applicable to me. I am trying to do more maintenance. Who knew all this would be so much work? I just thought I’d jump into my body and race around the Earth for 80-90 years no problem! 😛

  2. Who knew facing cancer could be humorous? 🙂 Thanks for sharing your hopes and fears with us. I’m crossing my fingers that you won’t need a major overhaul.

    • Thank you! I tend to look for humour in most things in life… to a point. But it helps me cope.
      I’m hoping I won’t need a major overhaul either. It would be one of those things where I would cut my losses, so to speak, and just buy a new car… but I can’t find new bodies for sale anywhere. Maybe on craigslist. I should try there, but I might end up buying someone else’s lemon. That always seems to happen. This body is actually in pretty good shape otherwise, so I should just hang onto it and do the work. 🙂

  3. I’m a complete stranger, but your post came up on my LGFMS alert on google. I’m 5.5 years out after being diagnosed. This is like winning the irony lottery. You have cancer. Best I’ve been able to figure it out about 15 people a year get it in the US. That’s a tiny fraction of the number of people who win the lottery. I got diagnosed in a bar in Moab Utah when one of the guys I was drinking with said “what the heck is that bump on your arm.” I’d seen it before, but it never dawned on me that it required an action on my part. Sloan Kettering confirmed his diagnosis and a few weeks later I had 4 hours of surgery on my arm. I was back to work two days later, no chemo, no radiation, and I went to crossfit today and lifted weights like nothing ever happened. In many ways after seeing friends and family go through cancer, it feels like I never really was “sick.” I’m hopeful that you’ll have a very similar experience!

    • Thank you for sharing your story. I knew it was rare but didn’t know it was THAT rare. I’d have rather won the lottery actually. I’m sure you thought the same. I’m glad you caught it early and had successful treatment and are doing so well. I do hope I will feel that way myself. Would you mind if I emailed you sometime? It is so hard to find others with this diagnosis.

      • I saw from your other posts that you had your surgery this week. Hope you’re back on your feet again. Feel free to email me any time.

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