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After getting back from our time on the road from Dec. 26, 2018, to Feb. 4, 2019, where we visited Bruce, Tim, Ed, and Carrie (plus extra time at Sarasota), we tried to get an appointment with Marcia's oncologist at Pella. (See Marcia's last major Trip for an overview of that trip.) Marcia had tried to communicate with this doctor while in FL, since she was hoping for Zometa (a bone strengthener).
At her appointment on Mar. 3, 2019, with her oncologist, early in the meeting, he opened with an almost exasperated tone, "What are you here for today?" This was frustrating to hear since we had been trying to communicate by email and phone to see if Marcia could get the Zometa scheduled, and he should have known that.
Then he dropped the bomb that she can't do it (getting Zometa) now, which he could have told us earlier when we emailed and called (but he wouldn't "doctor over email"). He did not do any type of examination on Marcia. He then suggested that it looks like palliative care/hospice might be next, and Marcia agreed. This was the pinnacle. Up to this point, I had some hope of her getting better, especially since she seemed to be doing so well in Florida. I knew that there was no reason to try to talk her out of this path; there were no other paths that she was willing to pursue, and I knew that I couldn't convince her, nor was I sure that I should try. I also knew that more treatment meant working with this oncologist, and that did not seem like a path either of us wanted to take. I resigned, with Marcia. There was a sense of peace, despair, resignation, relief, and frustration all wrapped together. I recognized that this was the beginning of her end.
Published 2025-08-05.
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