Cancer is everywhere, it’s the epidemic we skate around until it hits close to home. So, when an MRI outed a suspicious nodule on my thyroid, and when further testing confirmed it was a point of concern, I was surprised, and then I thought, “Ah, now this.”
Thyroid nodules are generally nothing to worry about, I was assured, but it turned out mine was not one of those. A biopsy at Tahoe Forest Hospital turned up a tumor just large enough, and weird enough to be of even more concern. Hurthle cell tumors are rare; the cells can function like thyroid cells, or they can be cancerous. Apparently, they also can change their minds later.
This story, though, is not really about me. It’s about surgeon Dr. Ben Hunt, a well known, and highly respected Sacramento physician who just happens to be giving up his thriving practice to come to Plumas District Hospital (PDH) and Eastern Plumas Health Care (EPHC) as the new surgeon here.
You could say that a fortuitous set of circumstances led me to be a Plumas County guinea pig with our community’s new surgeon. I’ll start with the punchline and work back from there: my experience with Dr. Hunt, from start to finish, could not have gone any better. I’m giddy and almost disbelieving that we’ve managed to lure this caliber of surgeon to our small and isolated community. And it is a credit to Dr. Kepple, CEO, at Plumas District Hospital for pursuing and persuading him to come, along with Tom Hayes, CEO at EPHC and the staff at both hospitals.
The road leading to Dr. Hunt, and surgery in Sacramento, began with a quickly scheduled appointment with EPHC’s telemedicine endocrinologist, Dr. Victor Ettinger. My primary care physician, Dr. Michelle Kim, didn’t feel comfortable being my only pre-surgery physician. Hurthle cells, those little darlings, were outside of her experience, as well.
Based on the biopsy and a conversation he had with the pathologist, Dr. Ettinger said I would need to have half of my thyroid and the tumor removed. He told me that I had a one in four chance of cancer, maybe even less—which sounded good while I was talking with him and less good when I saw the faces of friends when I told them.
He asked who was doing the surgery, and I said I was planning to make a pre-surgery consultation appointment with a Reno surgeon. Dr. Ettinger said, “Why don’t you go to Dr. Hunt, the new surgeon at EPHC?” By some stroke of luck, both Ettinger and Hunt had attended the same healthcare provider meeting at the hospital—Ettinger traveling from Bakersfield to meet EPHC’s staff and his patients “live,” and Hunt coming from Sacramento so that Dr. Kepple could introduce him to the physicians and staff who would be working with him here.
Dr. Ettinger was quite impressed with Hunt, he said. Dr. Hunt had received his medical degree from the prestigious UCSF Medical School, he was one of the top surgeons in Sacramento according to Dr. Kepple, and he just happened to mention to Dr. Ettinger that one of his specialties was thyroid cancer. “Go to him,” Ettinger said forcefully, as if it was the one right choice.
No fortuitous path is simple and straight forward. You have to work for the best things; always, they involve an element of belief and, to my mind, whimsical good fortune. Dr. Kim caught me in the hallway after my appointment and asked how it went. I mentioned Dr. Hunt and she shook her head and said, “He’s not coming till December.” I felt that balloon deflate, but I simply went ahead and made the appointment with the Reno surgeon. My appointment wasn’t for six weeks–there are a lot of people in need of thyroid surgery in Reno it seems. When I asked if I could be put on a waiting list for cancellations, the receptionist said kindly, “We don’t really have cancellations. Everyone is pretty much in the same situation you are.” Desperate, is what she meant, and afraid.
Back at work in EPHC’s Administration Office, my friends asked how my appointment went. I gave them the rundown, including the daunting six week wait until my pre-surgery appointment. Then, one of them asked a rather simple question: why didn’t I try calling Dr. Hunt to see if I could get an appointment with him in Sacramento. I hesitated a moment, then I made the call, doubting that I’d get through or that the appointment would be sooner in such a big city.
I left a message for Dr. Hunt explaining my situation. I added that Dr. Ettinger at Eastern Plumas Health Care said he was coming here and that he was the right surgeon for my case. And then the amazing set of events began to unfurl. Dr. Hunt had been in surgery, but he called back as soon as he got out. “Do you want to come down tomorrow or Thursday?” he asked. I picked Thursday, three days away. A long trip to Sacramento beat waiting and wondering for six weeks.
Besides, by then I’d checked Dr. Hunt out online. Patients LOVED this guy. Besides being ranked among the top surgeons in Sacramento, he’d garnered a Compassionate Doctor of the Year award, based on patient reviews. I thought that had a nice ring to it. And, Dr. Kepple said when he called Dr. Hunt’s references they said, “You’d be crazy not to hire him.” Apparently, after a rotation during residency in Matanuska Valley, that small Alaska town was “ready to make him the Mayor,” added Kepple.
During that first phonecall, Dr. Hunt explained the surgical procedure, the chances of cancer and more, leaving me feeling much more on the side of the living than I’d felt only moments before. After that, he asked if there were any questions I had or anything I was worried about. He said, “With any luck, you’re looking at just two trips to Sacramento, and you’re done. In a little while, you won’t even remember my name.” Dr. Hunt was right about a great many things, but about that he was very wrong.
He told me his assistant would call me the next day to confirm my appointment time and give me additional instructions. I’m prone to worry; the little details working out not quite right can leave me breathless. So, when I hadn’t heard from the assistant the next day, I was telling a friend in my worried way that it was now the morning after the day of the expected phone call, and I was wondering what to do. Just then, my phone rang. “Hi, this is Ben Hunt,” he said. “I wasn’t sure my assistant had a chance to call you yet, and I didn’t want you to be worried.” I held out my phone and looked at it. I looked for a hidden camera. I decided Dr. Ben Hunt was a psychic—and a very, very compassionate doctor.
Dr. Hunt was even better in person–gentle, reassuring, and funny. I like funny; it helps me relax, and relaxation is helpful in a case like this. Panic doesn’t encourage preparation or healing. He went over the possible complications: that in one out of two hundred cases, there was a chance of damage to the voice, as the laryngeal nerve travels directly through the two halves of the thyroid. In addition, the parathyroid glands, four pea sized glands that wrap around the thyroid, are in danger of being nicked in the process of removing half the thyroid and my Hurthle cell tumor. This is a delicate surgery, so his partner would be assisting him, Dr. Hunt told me.
He told me what to expect at the hospital and from recuperation. He asked if I had any questions. He talked about cancer risk and again reassured me that it was unlikely. Further, he said that even if it was cancer, it wouldn’t be life threatening. I’m not sure if I can stress enough how important it was to get all that information, and to get it delivered with kindness and, yes, that word again—compassion. This is a doctor who truly cares and that, as they say, makes all the difference.
I made my surgery appointment on my way out of the office—it would take place in a little over a week. The day of the surgery, as I waited in the bed to get wheeled into the OR, Dr. Hunt came in, he took my hand, he reminded me about how long the surgery would take, and he told me everything would be alright. He said, “I’ve already warmed up on a couple patients, so we should be good. It’ll be a first for me for this surgery, but what the heck.” He made me laugh. Then, he asked if I had anyone waiting for me that I’d like him to talk to. I said “Yes,” and he went out right then and told my son and friend what to expect, and when I’d be out. The nurse said, “Isn’t Dr. Hunt wonderful? We love him!”
He came back in and wheeled me back into the OR himself. Once there, he mentioned that his partner hadn’t arrived yet. “You may have to hold the instruments,” he told me. The OR nurse, who knew he was leaving Sacramento for Plumas County asked if he would take her with him. When I say that everyone I met loves this doctor, I’m not exaggerating.
I remember taking two or three breaths into an oxygen mask. And, then it was done and I was in a room that was more like a hotel room, and Dr. Hunt was there to let me know that everything had gone very, very well. Later, he let me know that we’d have to wait until the next week to get the biopsy results—those pesky Hurthle cells weren’t giving up their secret easily.
I had about seventeen hours of sleep on an IV drip, peppered by visits from family and nurses, and then I went home. I tried the pain meds, but I didn’t really need them, so I switched to ibuprofen. The only pain was from the tube they’d put down my throat. The surgery site itself was painless. I had a few days of easy rest and recuperation; I know that I was lucky, but I also know this points to what a fine surgeon Dr. Hunt is. The following Monday, Dr. Hunt called. He asked me to say my name, for privacy reasons, and then he blurted, “NO CANCER! Sorry, I’m not one to beat around the bush.”
That’s nearly the end of my story. I felt lucky—that my tumor had been found, that it was benign, and that I had somehow fallen into the hands of this marvelous surgeon. This narrative is important to the rest of you, however, because Dr. Hunt will be coming to practice full time at PDH and EPHC this December. What I hope is that my story has impressed upon all of you just how lucky, fated, blessed—whatever you want to believe—we are to have this physician among us. I know that some of you in Quincy have had a chance to meet and welcome him. Dr. Kepple has hosted Dr. Hunt and his wife (Alexandra Hunt, MD, who just graduated from Sutter Family Medicine Residency program at UC Davis Medical School and will be joining the PDH staff to practice family medicine and obstetrics) at his home several times.
If you or anyone you know has need of surgery, please, utilize his services, because that will be a great thing for you, for him, and for this community. And beyond that, make Dr. Hunt and his family feel welcome here. Because, let’s face it, it isn’t every day a great doctor comes to our area, and we need to do whatever can to keep him or her!
One final note: when I asked Dr. Hunt why he wanted to come to our small, out of the way community, he said that if he stayed in Sacramento he figured he wouldn’t know his daughter when she was growing up—she’d be a “mall girl.” He grew up in the small town of Big Trees, CA. “It’s always been my dream to return to a small town,” Dr. Hunt explained. “I was born and raised in a place very similar to Plumas County, in the Sierras. I chose a career in general surgery so I could come back to rural living after I finished my training.”
He and his wife share the same perspective. “We just aren’t city folks, and these days fewer doctors want to work in rural areas despite the significant need. It is a perfect match for us to live in the mountains and serve the [Plumas County] community; it is where our greatest passion meets the greatest need.”Given that Dr. Hunt is at the top of his game in the city, this is probably an unusual choice; let’s help him know for sure it’s the right choice.