I LIKE MY SKIN THIN, THANK YOU

Some advantages for having thin skin

This was written in the beginning of my cancer journey circa 2010. Recently someone told me I needed to thicken my skin. Hopefully she’ll see this.

found this on reddit funny slash comments about thin skin

I’ve been told I over analyze things too much. I’ve been told I’m too sensitive about little things. I’ve been told I should grow a thicker skin. I like my skin thin. It feels the delicious serenity of a Swedish massage, the first rays of morning sun, the perfection of a Spring day with new or annual flowers blooming, of needless to say, the erotic delight when connecting with the one who gets us and cares about our pleasure.

Why should I harden against a world that is cold, methodical, and unsympathetic?

Why should I just learn to take the discomfort when there are other options available? This is true for personal relationships as well as professional ones.

Every month I have to give blood to make sure my disease is not rapidly accelerating. I’d had a port inserted into my chest a full fifteen months before I really needed it, because I didn’t know I had the option of telling my first oncologist I didn’t want to get it before my second opinion. Ports have to be flushed once a month. I struggled to find where and how to get my port flushed and my blood drawn so it is not a huge hassle and expense for me. One highly respected doctor actually said, “No oncologist is going to flush your port unless they are giving you chemotherapy. There’s not enough money in it and too much risk.” When I discovered I could get the job done at an Urgent Care facility I was thrilled. The doctor there said, “The insurance companies are happy to get bills from Urgent Care because they cost less than oncology offices or major medical centers.” Fascinating, that doctors and patients don’t know these facts. Every person when faced with cancer, has to learn these steps while coping with the worst anxiety and stress ever experienced.

Recently, I discovered that the medical center processing my blood was unwilling to make my experience better. Every bill had a different account number. I couldn’t pay online without going into the inner workings of the system and changing the account number each time. I called to complain which went nowhere. I asked for the supervisor who said, “We’ve been doing it this way for 40 years and we aren’t going to change now.” This from the same medical center advertising constantly how family friendly they are. When my dad was in their hospital a few years ago, the nurse gave him a medication she had been warned he was allergic to, there was no family friendly treatment in play. My dad had an allergic reaction on top of the reason he was in their hospital bed, making him extra tense and uncomfortable. They didn't uphold their advertising integrity or quite clearly, give a S**T about my dad, their patient.

I know getting riled causes my stress to kick up which shoots adrenalin and cortisol into my system and is unhealthy for my condition. I called Urgent Care to ask if I could have my blood sent to a different lab servicing center. Of course, I had a second option. I no longer needed to give my money to an organization that lies and doesn’t care about their paying customers.

Then I discovered that instead of sitting in the Urgent Care Waiting room for half an hour while they get my room and the tray ready for my procedure, I can call ahead, say I’m coming, and when I get there be ushered in for my monthly treatment. My great grandmother was known to say, “The squeaky wheel gets the grease.”

Oh, the highs and lows of emotional processing. To be so frustrated with red tape and entrenched traditional systems, only to happily discover that with some research new ways can be found to streamline the stress and have an easier experience.  Thank you, I’ll keep my thin skin and focus that extra half hour on pleasing my internal electrical switches instead of sitting in a waiting room with lots of sick kids and a very loud Pixar movie that no one is watching.

cartoon stock i don’t have a kid but my inner child is alive and well