For over a year now, I have been working with my therapist and my pill pusher to become the master over my anxieties. I started with a few anxieties, which grew into many. I left them untreated for years, and they snowballed. Areas where I didn’t have anxieties, became huge anxiety producers.
Then I started to fear the fear.
With cognitive therapy, a lot of effort on my part, and the right meds, I have reduced most of my major anxiety producers. Even the one that triggered seeking the help of a professional–the fear of a recurrence of cancer.
I have learned what I can do to stay healthy, such as eating a diet rich in fruits, vegetables, whole grains, reduced sugar, no “white” stuff, and nothing processed. In other words, nothing from a box or bag–my go-to meals. I also have to exercise. *sigh*
If I have a recurrence, I will deal with it at that time. No sense in worrying about the what-if’s—I have to worry about right now, and what I have control of, which is doable.
However, there is always a however, isn’t there? However, every odd feeling or pain that I have in my body, negates all the progress I’ve made. Has the cancer moved from my lung to my kidney? How about my shriveled up female parts? Is my liver okay?
I’m seriously not a frequent flyer at my Primary Torturer’s office. I used to go once a year for my annual tune up, and that was that. Until she decided she needed me to visit her every six months. Ugh. Maybe she likes my company, and it has nothing to do with my age, health, or the fact that I’m a cancer survivor. I don’t know, but being the compliant patient, I mostly follow her instructions–at least the every 6-month thing.
My Primary Torturer has a fondness for her prescription pad. Usually, her cure for anything that ails me is in the form of an antibiotic. It’s a good thing I made her send me to the Lung Torturer several years ago, or I might have taken a bunch of antibiotics for cancer, if I filled the prescription.
In any case, I mention little things to her, so that she can record it in my file for future reference. The “complaint” is usually met with some poking and prodding, followed by a prescription for antibiotics. I rarely fill antibiotic prescriptions unless I’m coughing up green stuff, or green stuff is coming out my nose.
So—at my semi-annual tune up a month ago, I mentioned a pain, sometimes sharp, sometimes I rarely notice it, but mostly it’s simply there annoying me. Of course, this led to poking and prodding. She requested some further tests, and sent me away with—a prescription for antibiotics—just in case the test came back with no significant findings. It was also suggested that I take Miralax (that old people stuff that keeps us regular)—I could even put the Miralax in a sugar dish, and scoop it into my coffee, so that I can deny that I’m aging, by disguising it in the sugar dish. Ha! What a goofy torturer.
The test was normal. The issue that creates doubt, more than anxiety is, should I book another torture session, or just wait it out until the next tune up. Which is what I usually do.
But the pain is still there.
…. and an unfilled prescription for antibiotics.
Maybe she’s right this time?
But I’m going to wait and see.