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.

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,

Dara

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