Monday, October 06, 2008
Just Lucky, I Guess
NPR ran a story on resorting to superstitions when you feel out of control.
When Not In Control, People Imagine Order:
"New research shows that when people perceive they have no control over a given situation, they are more likely to see illusions, patterns where none exist and even believe in conspiracy theories. The study suggests that people impose imaginary order when no real order can be perceived."
Last week, when I returned to Stanford for my diagnostic mammogram, I panicked because not only had I not brought my cache of cool-but-read magazines to deposit in the waiting room, I had not even read my latest copy of CURE. If it turned out bad, I'd know why. But it didn't. I'm still not sure I can go without reading that issue of CURE--it's bound to come back to haunt me!
NPR ran a story on resorting to superstitions when you feel out of control.
When Not In Control, People Imagine Order:
"New research shows that when people perceive they have no control over a given situation, they are more likely to see illusions, patterns where none exist and even believe in conspiracy theories. The study suggests that people impose imaginary order when no real order can be perceived."
Last week, when I returned to Stanford for my diagnostic mammogram, I panicked because not only had I not brought my cache of cool-but-read magazines to deposit in the waiting room, I had not even read my latest copy of CURE. If it turned out bad, I'd know why. But it didn't. I'm still not sure I can go without reading that issue of CURE--it's bound to come back to haunt me!
Labels: oncology
// posted by Georgia @ 7:53 PM 
Friday, October 03, 2008
Twice as Fun
Every year, in the fall, it's time for testing. And now that I'm up for yearly mammograms, the advances in technology are working against me. Digital imaging finds a LOT. Last year the "screening mammogram", the standard, found something and I had to return for a "diagnostic mammogram" to find out it was nothing. Nothing they could identify, anyway, so unless microscopic aliens were setting up shop, I was good to go for another year.
So this year I figured it'd happen again, so when I went in for the screening mammogram I asked the technician to look at last years images to make sure she covered any suspicious ground.
Oh, she says, I meant to look at your previous images before I brought you in.
Go ahead, I said, I'll wait. And I stood there, because there was only one chair and it was in front of the computer and she was in it, and I didn't say anything because I didn't think distracting her would help anyone and she eventually took the images.
And I got the calls, a scary-sounding call from a nurse from each of the three doctors I'd asked the reports to be sent to. They use the trying-not-to-frighten-you-but-you-better-take-this-seriously voice.
So I go back, and when I do I explain the situation and ask each and every person I talk to how to get around this two-trip effort. The best answer was from the radiologist who came out personally to say that my images looked fine. She said that she really didn't know how to combine the two in my situation because it was the insurance company who wouldn't pay for both at the same time. But if there was a symptom they would essentially skip the screening and go straight for a diagnostic. And something transient, like pain, would be the kind of symptom whose disappearance would be easy to explain after the diagnostic screening. Thanks, doc!
Every year, in the fall, it's time for testing. And now that I'm up for yearly mammograms, the advances in technology are working against me. Digital imaging finds a LOT. Last year the "screening mammogram", the standard, found something and I had to return for a "diagnostic mammogram" to find out it was nothing. Nothing they could identify, anyway, so unless microscopic aliens were setting up shop, I was good to go for another year.
So this year I figured it'd happen again, so when I went in for the screening mammogram I asked the technician to look at last years images to make sure she covered any suspicious ground.
Oh, she says, I meant to look at your previous images before I brought you in.
Go ahead, I said, I'll wait. And I stood there, because there was only one chair and it was in front of the computer and she was in it, and I didn't say anything because I didn't think distracting her would help anyone and she eventually took the images.
And I got the calls, a scary-sounding call from a nurse from each of the three doctors I'd asked the reports to be sent to. They use the trying-not-to-frighten-you-but-you-better-take-this-seriously voice.
So I go back, and when I do I explain the situation and ask each and every person I talk to how to get around this two-trip effort. The best answer was from the radiologist who came out personally to say that my images looked fine. She said that she really didn't know how to combine the two in my situation because it was the insurance company who wouldn't pay for both at the same time. But if there was a symptom they would essentially skip the screening and go straight for a diagnostic. And something transient, like pain, would be the kind of symptom whose disappearance would be easy to explain after the diagnostic screening. Thanks, doc!
Labels: oncology
// posted by Georgia @ 9:17 PM
