Why I Switched Healthcare Providers After My Mom Died From Cancer

I’m 41. I have no notable medical history. I take no medications. I can breeze through medical history forms at lightening speed, with a giant line through the “No” column. I’ve never broken a bone. I’ve had no invasive surgeries. I’ve had a few skin tags and moles removed, but they have all been benign things. The only time I’ve been hospitalized is when I myself was born and when giving birth. So far so good. Some serious knocking on wood is in order right now.

Despite being healthy, the loss of my mother from a very rapid and traumatic cancer ordeal forced me to think about things that I had never thought about before. She was otherwise healthy too. But from the time she was diagnosed with cancer, we were racing against the clock. Time just wasn’t on our side at the critical junctures. Even in her final days, I was in the full-blown scramble to get some answers to things that weren’t making sense. Then it was all like “The clock’s run out, time’s up, over, bloah!”. She died; it was too late. Damn it. The marathon (or was it a 100-meter dash? or something in between?) was over.

I never want to see that happen again, to anyone, myself included.

So as I sprung into self-survival mode, I had to ask myself the morbid question: if I were diagnosed with cancer, if it were ME next time, where would I want to be treated? I had never thought about that before my mother had died. I knew where I would not want to be treated, but where would I want to go next if I heard those words “you have cancer”?

That was a very difficult question to ask myself (who likes to think about these things, right?) but a very easy answer. Unequivocally, if it happened (let’s hope it never does, but if it did), my next phone call would be to Penn (University of Pennsylvania) Medicine’s Abramson Cancer Center. The Philadelphia hospitals are not my local hospitals, but they are close enough. As per their slogan, “Your Life is Worth Penn Medicine”. Well, as per my slogan,“My Life is Worth the Little Extra Trek to Penn Medicine”. I would seek a second opinion, for sure, possibly from one of the other Philadelphia-based cancer centers even; however, I would want to kick things off at Penn and then go from there.

So in the next weeks and months after this morbid revelation, I put forth the time and effort to get all of my routine healthcare under the Penn Medicine umbrella. My dermatologist, gynecologist, and primary care doctor are all Penn Medicine-affiliated physicians. They weren’t before; I had to do some switching. I also get my mammograms at a Penn Medicine radiology center. To me, driving a little further for these routine visits is worth it. One major plus to that, beyond the fact that any referrals (should there ever be any suspicious findings) would be to another Penn doctor, is that all of my records are now in the same electronic system. That could be invaluable should there be a health emergency, not necessarily cancer but anything really. Time can and does get lost sending medical records from Point A to Point B. And remember — time can be your enemy. Trust me, I saw it with my mom. Numerous times, we waited for Hospital A to FAX (!!) pages and pages and pages of medical records to Hospital B. Oh those poor-quality, slow-moving FAXES of critical health info, and this was 2008-2009 (ie, not that long ago)!! Nothing like being at the mercy of the medical records department and the snail-like speed of a fax machine. It’s like life stopped until the fax finished, OMG, please tell me that hospitals have since abandoned the fax machine. Regardless, I won’t have to ever worry about that — every lab result, blood pressure reading, doctor’s note, prescription, etc will be there in the computer, LEGIBLE and for immediate viewing. No. Faxes. Required.

Penn Medicine also has a nice patient portal where I can view any laboratory or imaging reports, send a message directly to my doctors, or schedule an appointment. It’s pretty sweet, as far as healthcare goes.

I don’t sit around worrying if or when my health might deteriorate. I don’t worry about getting cancer. I’m too busy living my life. There is something very comforting though, about being prepared, should chaos strike. Those who haven’t been through it with a loved one (or themselves) may not be able to appreciate just how quickly things can get really crazy. We can’t control everything, but sometimes we can control your own destiny by choices that we make.

I hope to never be in a race to save my own life, but there is a better chance that time could be on my side since I’ve taken the time now to get myself in good hands for my routine healthcare — good hands, all at the same place, one giant time-saving maneuver.

Thinking about these things can only help you. I recommend it. Don’t wait for health problems to strike. It’s too hard to think then! And that clock starts tickin’ … tick, tick, tick, tick, tick […].

Thanks for reading, be well, and share these tidbits with those you care about.