The PowerPoint at the Plastic Surgeon's Office

So. I’ve referred a few times to the PowerPoint at the plastic surgeon’s office. At this point I’m starting to feel pressure to make this a funny story since I keep mentioning it. I might be funny, but a good storyteller I am not. But here goes.

Scene: The day was Thursday, April 3. The day after I’d gotten “the call” from my PCP about my diagnosis.  After going into work, I got a call from my PCP who told me to head down to Beth Israel Hospital (the “BI” I keep referring to for those readers who might not be Boston-based). I tearfully told my boss what was going on (after pulling him out of a meeting that included the CEO, CFO, COO, and CIO.  Nice.). I then spent a whirlwind and emotionally draining day at BI.

The visit that day started with me meeting my surgeon who told me that he didn’t have a lot of information for me, but did I have any questions? Um, well, if you don’t have much to tell me, then…no. That day I also met with a social worker, the surgeon’s nurse practitioner and a genetic counselor. All nice people, but except for my time with the genetic counselor (which was the most productive part of the day), it was pretty much me sitting in the chair with tears streaming down my face.

The initial plan (despite the lack of full information from the biopsy) was to do surgery with reconstruction and then we’d go from there with additional treatment. My day ended with a meet and greet with the plastic surgeon that would do the reconstruction. We headed over to his office where we were taken to a room to complete yet more medical history forms.  I was getting tired of completing these forms. The woman who showed us into this room also mentioned that there was a PowerPoint for me to view. Um, okay.

I’ve done many PowerPoints in my career so I’m always game for a good PowerPoint. Or even a lousy one that I can mock. And as somebody interested in health communication, this piqued my interest as to what a plastic surgeon would have to say in a PowerPoint to a new patient.

As an aside, I have a theory that plastic surgeon’s are narcissists at a minimum, if not sociopaths. If you are related and/or close friends with kind, loving plastic surgeons, then my sincerest apologies.  This is of course a generalization.  No offense meant to your kind, loving plastic surgeons whom I don't know.  My point is my expectations for a good bedside manner were already low.

Did I mention that at this point I was pretty raw from the day?  So I was sort of done.  Honestly, I could have met the nicest plastic surgeon at that point and may have had a similar reaction.  Anyway, below is an edited version of the presentation.  The one I saw was even longer with lots of pictures.  You should get the idea.  

 

So Aaron and I watch the PowerPoint with an increasing sense of stunned confusion.  I think I even said to Aaron while going through the PowerPoint, "is this really happening"?  When we were done we went back to the waiting room.  Then we're finally summoned to meet the plastic surgeon. No, wait.  We meet his nurse first and then eventually we met with him.  And he opened the conversation with, "So, any questions around the presentation?  Which way do you think you want to go?"  

In hindsight, perhaps this wasn't my funniest blog entry.  Here's my point (finally): This is not a recommended way to introduce reconstruction options to a newly diagnosed breast cancer patient.  Just saying.

Needless to say, I wasn't enamored with this guy and said as much to my doctors the following week.  I didn't get into the PowerPoint with my surgeon because I was worried he might say, "what's wrong with that?"  I just didn't want to go there with him.  My oncologist (who I really like and is one of the reasons why I decided to get treated at BI) raves about him, so I'm considering giving him a second chance.  The guy doesn't need to have a great bedside manner, he just needs to make sure my new boobs look as great as possible.