When you’ve had a serious health scare, it can make you fearful of getting checked for anything in the future.
With my level of anxiety, that fear was very much a thing. But feeling like I’ve been given a second chance at life I decided it was time to start a relationship with primary care doctors again.
I found one that I absolutely love. Her secretary even sends me a card after every visit with a passage from the bible in it, which I’m okay with even though I’m not a religious person. I just find it incredibly sweet and that one gesture makes me feel like more than a number on a medical file. She’s taken gentle care of me knowing my health history and my current battles with health anxiety by putting me on what she feels is the best anti-anxiety/depression meds for someone like me, which I’ve noticed a difference with it in my system. She is also closely monitoring my blood pressure hoping that its high level is attributed to my anxiety. We’ll see where that takes us though.
Weeks ago she set me up for three exams to check on my overall health, each one presenting an opportunity for a positive result to creep its way into my chapter of trying to heal.
Tonight I received the results of the final test.
All three exams have resulted in negative results, which I’m on the brink of tears hearing such good news about.
I’ve tried to hide my anxiety…I’m not great at it anymore…but I have been devoting a lot of my energy to dialing my concern back for my own benefit and to bring peace to others who still may be a bit traumatized by talks I had to have with them earlier this year thinking my end was near.
A couple of weeks ago my middle son saw me dressed to go out and asked what was up. I told him I had a doctor’s appointment and he instantly took off his headphones and started a barrage of questions pretty much asking if I was okay. That’s when I realized I hadn’t been the only one trying to hide the effects of the roller coaster ride the year has been.
His concern took me back to those powerless days of accepting my fate, along with every walk through the doctor’s office door these past several months. But I can take a breath now. A deep one. One that’s been locked up since my pathology results confirmed that the cancer hadn’t spread and I decided then and there that I was going to take my health more seriously.
I have bloodwork still left be to drawn at the end of the month, but *knock on wood* the bloodwork I had done during my ER visit in August didn’t show any issues so I’m hoping for that result this time as well. I’m definitely not counting my chickens before they’ve hatched, but these three beautifully fluffy chirps of warmth and new life will be celebrated fully.
I’m…yeah. I’m just breathing. Fully. Deeply. Lovingly 😌
I found one that I absolutely love. Her secretary even sends me a card after every visit with a passage from the bible in it, which I’m okay with even though I’m not a religious person. I just find it incredibly sweet and that one gesture makes me feel like more than a number on a medical file. She’s taken gentle care of me knowing my health history and my current battles with health anxiety by putting me on what she feels is the best anti-anxiety/depression meds for someone like me, which I’ve noticed a difference with it in my system. She is also closely monitoring my blood pressure hoping that its high level is attributed to my anxiety. We’ll see where that takes us though.
Weeks ago she set me up for three exams to check on my overall health, each one presenting an opportunity for a positive result to creep its way into my chapter of trying to heal.
Tonight I received the results of the final test.
All three exams have resulted in negative results, which I’m on the brink of tears hearing such good news about.
I’ve tried to hide my anxiety…I’m not great at it anymore…but I have been devoting a lot of my energy to dialing my concern back for my own benefit and to bring peace to others who still may be a bit traumatized by talks I had to have with them earlier this year thinking my end was near.
A couple of weeks ago my middle son saw me dressed to go out and asked what was up. I told him I had a doctor’s appointment and he instantly took off his headphones and started a barrage of questions pretty much asking if I was okay. That’s when I realized I hadn’t been the only one trying to hide the effects of the roller coaster ride the year has been.
His concern took me back to those powerless days of accepting my fate, along with every walk through the doctor’s office door these past several months. But I can take a breath now. A deep one. One that’s been locked up since my pathology results confirmed that the cancer hadn’t spread and I decided then and there that I was going to take my health more seriously.
I have bloodwork still left be to drawn at the end of the month, but *knock on wood* the bloodwork I had done during my ER visit in August didn’t show any issues so I’m hoping for that result this time as well. I’m definitely not counting my chickens before they’ve hatched, but these three beautifully fluffy chirps of warmth and new life will be celebrated fully.
I’m…yeah. I’m just breathing. Fully. Deeply. Lovingly 😌
46-50, F
