This is the first in a series of writing about our journey with cancer.

When you hear of someone being diagnosed with cancer you feel sad and, of course, sympathetic. If truth be told, there is also a part of you that breathes a sigh of relief that it’s not you. Of course you’re glad it’s not you, even though you are grieving with the one cancer has chosen to call on. Cancer is what happens to someone else.

Until it isn’t.

For my husband, getting the diagnosis confirmed took time, and while we allowed ourselves some hope it was something less devastating, we mostly began making decisions about how to deal with it. In the beginning we were stunned. This can’t be happening. We have things to do. We don’t have time to have cancer.

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2016

It started simple enough. Sometime in the beginning of 2016, Greg mentioned to me that he had a funny soreness when he opened his mouth wide to yawn or take a bite of a big taco or sandwich. Not a big deal really, but something. He brought this up casually a few more times, but by August, when it was still an irritant, I suggested he see the ear, nose, and throat specialist in La Paz. Dr. Angulo had impressed both of us previously; he was thorough in his examinations and treatments of Greg’s ears, when he had seen him after a couple of surfing incidents. My husband, who seldom goes to a doctor, felt a bit silly going for this minor thing, but he made an appointment for the next day at my insistence.

The hour drive to La Paz is easy, most of it on a four-lane highway, but there is little scenery to keep one’s interest. Rather it is miles of dry desert landscape. As a passenger, I might notice a caracara bird atop the cardon cactus and the occasional herd of goats, sometimes on the roadway, but most of the trip is monotonous. If we have to go to La Paz for any reason, we usually make a day of it for shopping and doing other errands. So for us, this drive to La Paz was just business as usual; this medical issue was probably nothing.

The hospital Fidepaz has a good reputation among expats and Mexicans alike. We’ve been going there for minor things for a few years now. It’s clean and the doctors have given us good care.

 

As it turned out, Dr. Angulo immediately thought Greg had acid reflux. He gave him a prescription for Nexium and made him an appointment to get an ultra sound. The puzzled look on Greg’s face told me he didn’t agree with this diagnosis, so when we left, Greg decided not to get the prescription. Mainly because it cost so much, but he swore he didn’t have acid reflux. He told the doctor that too, but with our lousy Spanish and the doctor’s inability to understand English, we decided to get the ultra sound and forego the Nexium.

Thank the powers that be the ultra sound appointment was for the same day, just in a different location. Angulo was adamant we see this particular doctor and not use the one at Fidepaz. That much we were able to ascertain even with the language barrier. We made the 15 minute drive and Greg got the ultra sound. The results were instantaneous and we were happy to learn that the test showed no problem. However, the problem that began our excursion remained. What next?

Back we go to Dr. Angulo armed with our test results, and the doctor insists that Greg has acid reflux. Greg insists that he doesn’t. Now Dr. Angulo wants him to get an endoscopy. Okay, we’ll do that in an effort to rule this out. We aren’t so lucky as to take care of this procedure in the same day. Instead we must make another drive to La Paz a few days later.