There are few people who would accuse me of being subtle. I don't know if it's a Lincolnshire thing, a male thing, or having a mathematical brain rather than an artistic one. Or maybe it's a family thing - we are all pretty blunt, and even now I think of it as a virtue. I have, particularly in my working life, come across so many people who are naturally....political, and have never liked the trait, whilst simultaneously observing those people swiftly climb the corporate ladder.
It is only in the last few years I've come to realise that, just like on the table for British politeness I linked to in an earlier post, people say one thing and mean quite another. Yes means maybe, or I'll think about it, or no don't be so stupid, how could you think that. I'll bear it in mind means I've forgotten it already. And incidentally means the primary purpose of our discussion was the following.
Not understanding a lot of these subtleties naturally puts you at a disadvantage. And I've noticed that doctors, particularly with someone in my situation, leave things unsaid, leaving you to work out the fine detail for yourself.
A few months ago, when I was having the investigations which led to diagnosis, I had a CT scan followed by a bronchoscopy (a tube down the throat into the lung to take a biopsy), as well as X-rays and blood tests. The CT scan came first, and we were told by the first doctor we saw that if the results came back ok they might cancel the bronchoscopy.
On the day of the bronchoscopy, a junior doctor came in to consent me. I was pretty frustrated by this point as to how long everything was taking (there always seemed to be a two week wait between procedures and appointments), and the lack of information coming my way. I asked if the CT scan had come back ok, he said, oh, I don't know if the results have been looked at. I then made the point that the previous doctor had told us this procedure would only go ahead based on those results, so it seemed a little odd they hadn't been looked at. At this point, the junior doctor started to get pretty flustered - understandably, as this previously meek and easy going patient had suddenly started to cross examine him. He then said, oh yes, the results have been looked at.
Brushing aside the odd little about turn, I asked if he could tell me what the results showed. He couldn't. I guess this was the point we started to get worried. Either he genuinely didn't know, which seemed a little unlikely to me, or he didn't want to worry us unduly in case the bronchoscopy came back clear.
Since then, having had lots of discussions with Doctor G, I have realised that the CT scanner must have lit up like a Christmas tree when I went through it. There is a big part of me that would have preferred the doctors to be frank with me all the way through the process, even if they just told me what was likely rather than what they knew for sure.
In fact, my ideal doctor would be Doc Martin off the telly, who, yes, I know, is actually Martin Clunes and isn't real. I like blunt, I like facts, I like feeling I'm in good hands (which I do, with Doctor G, Doctor D and my GP, for the record). Bedside manner I can take or leave.
One thing that Doctor G is very careful about phrasing an answer to is The Big Question - how long have I got. Doctor G, we were told before we saw him, would only talk about median - average - survival times, which he said were 18 months. Presumably he is very careful about what he says as he knows that whatever time he says people will take as gospel - I have exactly 18 months to live!
But thinking through the answer, there's no better way to phrase it - if you got all the people with the same condition, lined them up in order of how long they would live (the logistics of which would be interesting), and picked the middle person, that person would live 18 months. Being naturally of a cheerful and optimistic disposition - stop laughing - I read quite a lot of hope into that. This is an old persons disease. I am a relatively young person and believe I am better equipped than your average 70 year old to fight it (although bloody good luck to anyone in the same boat as me). So, here's to plain speaking, and beating the average.
