Living with Ovarian Cancer

My name is Alice Trent. I was diagnosed with breast cancer in 1998, which I am a 10 year survivor. My treatment was at a cancer center by a wonderful doctor named Dr. M.E. After four years of treatment she placed me in remission. I decided to return to my home state because my husband’s family were all there and I did not want to leave him and my son alone.

I have since been diagnosed with ovarian cancer and feel like I need to let other patients know to be cautious and informed about your diagnosis and treatments and demand the best treatment that is available. When I first started getting sick I admit I did not have a regular oncologist, and I should have because of my past history. I was however, getting regular checkups, which included paps, mammograms, and ultrasounds. My gynecologist was doing everything she knew to do. When she found the fluid in my stomach she immediately sent me to an oncologist That is when all the mistakes and trouble started.

I went to see Dr. P.M. and he said we should schedule to drain the fluid at a nearby university hospital. In agreement, I spoke to his nurse and received the date and time of the appointment.

On the day of the appointment I was at the hospital at the scheduled time and was told that they had no record of my appointment and did not know why I was there. At this point I was miserable and sick because my stomach was so swollen that I looked “eight months pregnant” and I had not eaten anything and had drank very little water for weeks. I was pleading for help. After sitting at the hospital waiting for four hours, my husband Billy decides to call our original doctor, Dr. M.E., at the cancer center and see if she could help. She said that the hospital would have to get me to the point that I could travel because the trip may kill me. Therefore we stayed there until they agreed to help me. Finally after seven hours we met a nurse that took her job of helping people seriously and decided to get me the help I needed whether Dr. P.M. authorized it or not. I am forever grateful to her. They drained my stomach of fluid and sent me home.

A few days later Dr. P.M. referred me to Dr. M, a very good, warm hearted breast cancer doctor at another cancer center. Billy and I spent two hours talking with him and thought we had gotten lucky. Two days after the original consultation with Dr. M, I was admitted to the hospital because I could not eat or drink anything without vomitting. At this time the devastation began. The hospital’s first experiment was to let all the students who wanted diagnose and treat me. The first student gave me eight potassium pills and because I was so sick and out of my head I did not remember that I was vomitting everything solid back up. The potassium pills lasted for three days and the last one I vomitted had the letters on it. It was then that they decided to put me on a feeding tube. The feeding tube was originally inserted through my nose to my stomach. Well that did not take long to vomit out also.

While this was going on, I been assigned to Dr. K, Dr. C, Dr. P.M., and Dr. M and it seemed that the four of them could not agree on what kind of cancer to say I had. Dr M was the only one of the four who diagnosed ovarian cancer The others were arguing whether I had gastric, breast, or ovarian.

The ninth day I was in the hospital, it seemed like neither doctor was going to try to help me. Billy, along with my son and some of my friends, decided it was taking too long for the assigned doctors to come up with some sort of help for me. Billy went to find someone to listen and my other friends went to find directors or anyone else who may help. After talking with several people, they all decided that filing a patient’s grievance against the hospital would be the best thing. If nothing else just to let other people know what treatment was available at that hospital.

That night, by some miraculous effort (because of the threat to file a greivance?) Dr. K and Dr. C came into my room and told me that we were going to start chemotherapy the next morning! The first question we all had was, “for what kind of cancer?” They had not even decided on what kind of cancer to treat! Billy told them we would not begin Chemo unless we knew what it was for.

The next morning the nurse came in and told us I was scheduled for surgery. Dr. P.M. and his students would open my stomach to explore and drain the fluid that had built up again. When I woke up from surgery my stomach felt terrible and I was miserable. That night Dr. C came into my room to give me the results of the surgery. They had decided on gastric cancer and it was the worst case they had ever seen. He told me that more than two months would be bonus days. He told me that when I got too sick or gave up, they would give me enough drugs to make passing easier and not to feel bad for my family. He made me feel like I was expendable to society and should just go die and get out of the way. What? No I would not give up!!! I will not go out lying down. I’m leaving this world kicking and screaming!! How many people have heard this from doctors and died because they believed them? How many older people just give up?

That was the moment that Billy and I decided to come back to Dr. M.E. as soon as I was able to make the trip. In the meantime my chest was hurting from the surgery and I did not know why. While they were inserting the PICC Line to provide me with some kind of nutrition when I went home, and to give me chemo, they discovered that the surgeons had punctured my lung and it was collapsing on my heart. That was why my chest was hurting. That night a surgeon we had never seen before came in with the student who had talked with me earlier that day, to fix the puncture. Right there in my room with no mask or anything. They ask Billy to leave and he said that he was as sterile as they were. They told me to push my morphine button while they worked on me. I woke up with a rod sticking out of me and had to do lung treatments for three days. And was charged for the three extra days I had to spend, because of their mistake, getting well enough to take chemo

I was given the first chemo treatment while I was in the hospital. Billy was shown how to feed me and give me my medicine through my PICC line and I was sent home after fifteen days.

The next week I was sheduled to see Dr. K at his cancer center and get another treatment. I was sick at the time, not realizing I had a blood infection from the PICC Line. I do believe in my heart that that cancer center is the most disorganized group I have ever been to. The staff did not know where I was to go and I was put in wrong rooms and Dr. K did not even look at me when he came into the room. That is why he was not even aware that I had a blood infection.

Two days later we left for the original cancer center for an appointment with Dr. M.E. I was sick when I got here and all she did was look at me and told me I had a blood infection and needed to be admitted to the hospital. I spent the next five days at a nearby hospital where the PICC Line was removed and I was instructed to eat. Dr. M.E. and her associates have decided I have ovarian cancer instead and I have been taking treatments for it and I am doing much better now. My most recent scans show no cancer and I am almost through the chemo. I am well past the two months Dr. C had given me. I do feel like I have a lot of life left and have never heard anything else from my Dr. M.E.

It is sad that I had to come back here for better treatment. I have spoken to a couple people who are not happy with that hospital’s treatment. I have given them the names and phone numbers down here. Hopefully all of you will be better informed about your treatment, regardless where it comes from. Please look for hope. Sometimes thats all it takes. Have a blessed day.