Going To The Doctor

I’ve always been an anxious patient. Going to the doctor has always been a stressful ordeal that causes my palms to sweat and blood pressure to rise. I suppose there are some people who aren’t fazed by a person in a white coat. I’m not one of those people.

Maybe, it’s because I’ve seen what can happen.

I know how, one minute you’re feeling great and living life, and after a meeting with someone in a white coat, your life can be put on a different course. One you didn’t see coming. I’ve seen this happen to people I love.

Recently, I had my three month checkup.

I know other cancer survivors who visit the doctor every six months or even annually. Right now, I’m on the three month plan. If I could have it my way, I’d be on the weekly plan. When I suggest this to my doctor, she just laughs. I guess, over time, I’ll relax a little bit, and then maybe move to every six months or even a year. I don’t know. I truly don’t see the harm in going every three months.

It gives me piece of mind.

It makes me feel protected.

Of course, I know deep down inside, none of us are really protected. From anything.

If we really thought about all of the dangers lurking, we’d probably build a wall around our families, and live within the safety of that wall.


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But, we can’t.

All we can do is put one foot in front of the other, and move forward.

Going to the doctor is my form of living in a protective box.

Going to the doctor is my form of living in a protective box.

Entering the hospital, for my visit, was like seeing relatives I haven’t seen in awhile. I don’t mind going there. In fact, I quite like it. It’s a place that embraced me when I needed it most, dried my tears when they fell often and freely, and helped me pick up the pieces when I felt my body had failed me.

I will always be grateful.

I’ve said before, how thankful I am to be on this side of a hospital. When I drive past a medical center, I recognize how truly blessed I am. The only thing separating me, and you, from the people inside a hospital, is luck. Truly.

Don’t take your health and your luck for granted.

Live with a deep appreciation for being on the outside of a medical center.


Do I wish I didn’t need to go to see my doctor every three months? Sure, I wish the whole BC (breast cancer) experience had never happened. But, at the same time, I look at my life, where I am today and the person I’ve become, and I can’t help but be thankful. If I hadn’t gone through what I went through, I wouldn’t be the person I am today.

And, I quite like the chick I’ve become.

I don’t know if I’ll ever feel comfortable moving past the three month visit. Fortunately, I don’t think my doctor cares. She understands the fear is always there, lurking in the darkness, and that seeing her is the closest thing I have to living in a protective box.

In the meantime, I’ll savor every morsel of my life, and I hope you do the same.

Find meaning each day,


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