Anyhow, I spent three years with Dr. Sertich and after starting out as a receptionist, making appointments and answering the phone, I ended my time there running his surgery schedule, doing pre-op appointments with the patients, verifying benefits, calling in prescriptions and even going into surgery with him. I never understood my place there either, but having his own private practice allowed for random raises, small perks and more importantly, networking opportunities - all of which made it difficult to leave.
My dad was first diagnosed with colon cancer in the spring of 2006, I was pregnant with Faith. The surgeon that was going to originally do the surgery was young and performed the procedure a couple of times a month. Needless to say, neither my mom or my dad were entirely comfortable with him. So my mom called me and asked if I knew of any doctor's who specialized in this type of surgery. I had a directory of doctors, in every specialty, at my fingertips, many who knew Dr. Sertich and some I had even worked with, referring patients to their offices. So, I did what I did best, and I made the connection. My dad met the Caldora's, a father and son team, who specialized in colon cancer and performed the procedure 3-5 times a WEEK. I went with my parents to meet with him and he greeted me by my first name, gave me a hug and asked how things were going back at the office. I remember the look my mom and dad had on their face - slight disbelief and a little impressed. At the end of it all, my dad had the best of the best - the best surgeons, the best hospital staff, anesthesiologists, charge nurses and post op care. It was at that moment that I knew my place in that office, because had I never been there my dad may have never received the treatment he did.
However, it would be six months after his last round of chemo that my dad would then be diagnosed with prostate cancer. It was in it's early stages and they were able to remove the tumor and my dad needed minimal chemo. Four years, and 3 months after his brother died, the cancer came back, and it came back with a vengeance. The cancer had spread all over, but my dad refused the "aggressive" chemo, so he took the bare minimum. We knew that was like putting a band-aid on a broken arm. Shortly after he started the chemo, like 3 weeks later, the cancer had spread to his liver and wasn't processing the toxins from the chemo - so essentially, the chemo was killing him. At that point, it was just a matter of time. The doctor's gave my dad until August, maybe September - he died in July. But in his last 24 hours, it was me that sat up with him in that back bedroom at my mom's house. My mom was asleep on the twin bed beside him, my sister in the pink arm chair and my older brother slouched over in the wheelchair next to my dad's bed. No one could do it, they were either too scared, afraid to do something wrong, or just flat out didn't want to, but they knew I could, and I did. I sat on the bench in the room and every two hours, as instructed, I administered drops of morphine to help with his pain. It was the longest night of my life, but when I look back on that night, it didn't seem long enough. My dad died the next morning, at 10:20am on Friday, July 13th, 2012.
By now, you might be asking yourself what any of this has to do with my picture for today...
Well, for starters, anytime I fight my allergies like this I find myself thinking back to my time working at Dr. Sertich's office, because I had a lot of these meds at my disposal (ENT doc, remember) and thanks to Obama-care, I can no longer buy over the counter meds with my FLEX card, but that's another story. But more importantly, this picture reminds me of all that I learned working in that office. Now, when there are questions about insurance policies, medical coverage, co-pays, ER visits, co-insurance and everything else, I can answer with confidence; I also know which questions to ask - even to the pharmacists. I know the things that are required for hospital admission and how to explain them to people without losing them in the language. I'm also reminded of the benefits I have with my employer, not just medical benefits, but having a job that allows me time off without losing pay - something Sertich didn't believe in. Tony, as many of his friends call him, may not have been the most honest businessman (considering he still owes me $1000 in back pay - story for another time), but he did give me an opportunity that led to connections and professional networking, that, in the end, probably gave me more time with my dad, and for that, I will always be grateful.
Till next time...
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