When I was diagnosed in 2002, it was not uncommon to hear about lesbians experiencing hostility in healthcare settings because of their sexual orientation, or for partners to be left out of each other’s healthcare altogether. And it wasn’t very common to hear about lesbians who were open with their healthcare providers about their sexual orientation or same-sex relationships. This is the context in which I was facing breast cancer.
Even though my gynecologist knew I was connected to MG and her family, we had yet to tell her that we were a couple. From our perspective it seemed implicit, but we weren’t comfortable yet making it explicit, and it hadn’t seemed important enough in that setting to take the risk. I was so used to just answering no to birth control questions, and having that be the end of that particular line of questioning. I had never had a gynecologist pursue the topic any further or ask for clarification about my sexual orientation, and there were never any questions about sexual orientation or non-heterosexual sexual activity.
But now we were facing the possibility of breast cancer, and I needed MG by my side and visible to the doctors, so MG went with me to my first appointment with the breast surgeon. We were both nervous. While we were waiting for my appointment, we saw two other women in the waiting room, who looked to me like a lesbian couple. I thought, hmmm, maybe this doctor is going to be okay. I mean, if she’s a breast surgeon, most of her patients are women, so she has to have her fair share of lesbians among those women, right? So, when we met her that day, I introduced MG as my partner. I wanted to make sure that she was aware of our relationship right out of the gate, rather than waiting until the “right moment” or an “appropriate time” and finding myself paralyzed by fear in situations when I need MG the most. She didn’t even blink, which I loved about her. She included MG in the conversation that day (and every appointment after that) asking her if she had questions, making sure that she and I both understand what she was telling us.
This is the kind of reaction you want from your potential surgeon, or from any healthcare provider. And if you are lucky, it’s the kind of reaction you get. Now, if she had been freaked out about my partner being a woman (something I have not encountered even once on this journey, thankfully), I would have had to either talk to her about her reaction and see if she could find a way to be more accepting, or I would have had to reconsider my choice of surgeon. Since we really felt comfortable with her all around, I’m very glad that we didn’t have to worry about her acceptance of our relationship.
In addition to her acceptance of our relationship, the surgeon became an important source of information for me when I was facing new cancer care providers and medical settings. Based on her reactions, I was more confident about being open with new providers about our relationship. My ability to approach new providers with that confidence, as well as the changing attitudes towards the LGBTQ community in this area and in our community, may be why I have always had positive experiences with cancer care providers, as well as any other healthcare providers. In addition to her influence on my confidence levels with other providers, if I ever had any doubt about the kind of reactions I might get, I could ask her if she felt that provider or facility is safe. She was very familiar with the local health care system and, as a heterosexual provider, had a great “insider” perspective on other providers’ attitudes about LGBT patients. She always understood why I might be concerned, and she never steered me wrong about the kind of reaction I could expect in any setting.
Because of our confidence in my breast surgeon, we came out to everyone else involved with my cancer care. With the oncologists, radiation oncologist, with nurses, office staff, with everyone. And this also extended to being more open with my other healthcare providers as well – primary care, gynecology, allergist, just about everyone. Not that many of them needed to be told; I think it was obvious to most of our routine providers already, they just never brought it up on their own. Their intake forms never asked, their routine medical records update forms didn’t ask. MG was always my emergency contact, but I was never sure what I should list in the “relationship” box next to her name. Even after our wedding in 2005, it wasn’t until 2010 when our state passed legislation for insurance providers to recognize same-sex marriage performed in other localities where it was legal, that I felt comfortable listing MG as my spouse, rather than my “significant other” or “partner.” When the US finally recognized same-sex marriage as legal in 2013, we could feel comfortable choosing “married” as our relationship status or listing each other as “spouse.”
I remember being particularly concerned in January 2008, when I was preparing for my mastectomy and reconstruction, which would involve a few days in the ICU before being moved to the regular post-surgery unit. I was very worried that MG would be denied the right to stay with me in the hospital. Especially the first night. This was pre-COVID, when you could have people stay with you overnight in your room or, in the case of ICU stays, in the family waiting room but with access to you throughout the night. But I had heard stories about same-sex partners being denied that right, and I had one family member who suggested that she should be the one to stay with me that night instead of my wife, as she was my “real family.” If my own family member could be so wrong about how important MG was to me, I worried that nurses or staff physicians might also be that wrong. I took that concern to my breast surgeon, and she assured me that she had other lesbian patients have the same procedure in the same hospital, who stayed in the same ICU, and none of them had ever reported facing homophobia there. She also offered to mention how important MG was to me, and to assure that she would have full access to me in the hospital. Because she was so understanding about my concerns, I had full faith we would be treated just like any other patient and their partner. And we were.
