I hate reading blogs that tend to run on the negative side and I've really struggled whether or not to let this blog have emotional explosions of negative verbal diarrhea. But, I’ve come to the conclusion that if you’re a regular reader of this blog, you’re more than likely armor coated and emotionally strong enough to handle any sort of runny crap I throw at you. Kind of like when you visit the monkeys at the zoo – just not so cute and noisy.

The doctor informed us that my dad has Stage 4 cancer. Evidently she knew this last time but failed to mention it. While we were drifting along on cotton candy clouds with gumdrops and butterflies, my dad's condition was severely understated to our family. Sure, the doc told us that there is still a 1% chance that this may be some sort of weird infection, but at least the elephant in the closet finally has a first name.

The whole appointment (with his doc) was premised by the office staff giving him a new order to get an additional lung biopsy. What?! (Insert major gasp here and a small bout of cussing I unleashed in the front office much to the dismay of Hubby). Evidently, the person who did the procedure did not get enough of the right cancerous tissue in order for the doctor to come to a final conclusion of what particular cancer dad is battling. As a visual aid to explain this, think of an egg frying in a pan. The white portion of the egg is the inflamed tissue surrounding the actual “cancer” of the egg, which is the yolk. This doc evidently wasn’t able to get any yolk. And guess what else? The doctor who did the biopsy is gone for a month and his replacement doesn't think he can do such a complicated biopsy due to my dad's tumors being camera shy and uncooperative. If this next biopsy doesn’t work, then they have to do a more invasive procedure where they actually scope him and go under the sternum area. Just thinking about it makes me hurt.

To add a little insult to injury; the doc tells my mom not to be a pest. Don’t call repeatedly asking for updates – we’ll let you know when we can. And certainly don't bother the oncologist too much because they'll drop you from their caseload. You annoy me - go die in peace. What?! I call bullschat. Have the courtesy to return a call the first time someone calls you. Don’t make sick people actively chase you down to confirm their appointments or to find out if they in fact, have an appointment. These calls may be annoying to you, but tough luck. This is a life you’re dealing with – have some common courtesy and mutual respect for your fellow human being and answer the damn call the first time it’s placed. Try to put a face on your “annoyance” and realize that you must be your own advocate in this state of “professional” healthcare.

If you’re still with me, let’s do some simple math on my dad’s cancer. The doctor initially thought something was going on around the month of April and he was finally diagnosed with lung cancer two weeks ago. During that three week time period, his four tumors doubled in size. Now, it’s been an additional two weeks since the last scan, and the doctor is talking another three weeks before he’ll even be seen by an oncologist. Hmmm…two plus three is five weeks…You do the math on the size of his tumors.

Essentially, what we were told today is that there is no way to speed up the medical system in Humboldt County because it SUCKS. I do not say this lightly when I tell you; do not get seriously ill in Humboldt County. In case you’re like me and didn’t know this, we hardly have any medical specialists in the area, especially in the field of cancer. The oncologists that we do have are treating patients all the way from Mendocino County on up to Brookings, Oregon, and from the sounds of it, they are extremely overworked due to the enormous amount of cases. They can’t help but treat their patients as a number because they don’t’ have the luxury to do otherwise. But my dad isn’t a number; he’s Grandpa D, the greatest grandpa in the world (next to Papa Tom, who in his own right is one of the greatest grandpas in the world).

This appointment helped me to quickly realize that my dad has zero chance of living a longer life should he decide to stay with the medical care provided locally. He’s being written off by a seriously lacking medical field and a fast growing cancer. He just doesn’t have the time and there is no way to speed up the medical system in Humboldt. I just can’t sit back and let three more weeks go by before he even has hopes of receiving some sort of medication.

This is where the Mayo Clinic in Scottsdale, Arizona comes in and our hopes were perked for a day. Our doctor explained that my dad could be seen there and within a week, could be diagnosed and placed on some sort of treatment plan. They have a tremendous amount of resources and they are specialized in the world of cancer. I know they can’t perform miracles but all I ask is just a bit more time and the doctor was quick to point out that as of this point, the ultimate outcome will probably be the same. Nice, I know – way to be positive Doc. My dad is too healthy to be this sick and I’d like to keep him this way.

We call the Mayo Clinic and guess what? Three weeks and then we'll see him. By the way, what sort of insurance does he have?

Successive calls to Stanford, UCSF, and even some place in Minnesota have proved fruitless; evidently the treatment of cancer must stick to rules that govern paperwork and insurance rather than practical applications of how tumors grow. My dad is dying and there is not a damn thing I can do to get the healthcare system to throw him a bone or at least shave off a week of waiting time. I really don't think I'm asking too much.

It’s just such a shame that a family tragedy has to wake me up to the fact that our healthcare system in Humboldt County is in shambles. We live in a gorgeous area of California but the beauty we have is not attracting qualified doctors to our area. The doctors we do have are seriously abused and tend to be overworked and this can only lead to problems for their patients. Primary care doctors need local specialists that can handle the caseload being referred to them; we shouldn’t all have to cross county or state lines in order to get help.

I don’t know what the answer is to this problem; but if you do, please share. It's going to take all of us to come up with a solution; I just hope we don't loose too many patients in the process. Especially not my dad.