On Thursday I had a doctor's appointment. That's not big news. I have a doctor's appointment every three weeks. But for some reason, I was really REALLY worked up about this one. So much so, I had Steve join me. Ever since Thanksgiving, I just have not been able to get a grip on life. In fact, our sweet friend from Church/dermatologist made a *house call* the other week because I was convinced I had skin cancer. Turns out I needed ointment.
Over Thanksgiving I could *feel something* in my ribs and also was sure I was bloated. (Side note, it was a year ago that I actually did notice the bloating and soon after went to my doctor who was convinced I had irritable bowel syndrome until he sent me for a CT scan in January.) So with the days getting shorter, and grayer and a nice little bout of grief to boot, I've turned into a full fledged hypochondriac. I needed my husband to join me at my appointment.
Have I mentioned recently how much I LOVE my doctor? And every.single.person. who works in his office? Well, I do! My routine appointment turned into 2 hours because of the loving care I received. I left convinced I'm normal. Not just my physical health, but my emotions. My crazy. My fear. All of it.
Here is something interesting. My doctor likened what I've been through this past year to someone who has been in a really bad car accident and is going through a type of post traumatic stress. It totally made sense to me. He said my body is on heightened alert. I feel stuff and am more cautious than a *normal* person. Like the person who was in an accident may be afraid to get back behind the wheel and will drive slowly, same for me going to the doctor's office. And I get to do it every three weeks.
All that to say, it helped. I've still imagined a few things this weekend, but I feel like I had a better perspective on things. Tomorrow is chemo. Another trip back to the office. I'm praying I can keep a clear head and be thankful. God's grace. I've felt it this weekend.