Years ago, I learned to get a copy of every test result taken on my body. From blood, to toxic tests such as x-rays and CT scans. I get copies of ALL of them. If I can’t speed read in the torture room, and question anything I don’t understand, I return home, obtain a second opinion from Dr. Google—and if I still can’t find an answer, I will call the doctor for clarification…or make another appointment. I have found that we must advocate for ourselves.
I “shop around” for the most honest, blunt, pull-no-punches type of torturer. (if you haven’t guessed, that is what I call doctors because each and every one of them will find a way to torture us)
The last couple of visits to my Blunt Oncologist, she entered the room with a, “I have good news”. Yesterday, she was full of chatty small talk.
I smelled a fish.
Now I’m onto her, I discovered her clever mind-trick, and I will be prepared next time, and be on my game to barrage her with questions. She knocked me off balance by seducing me with chit-chat, and I wasn’t prepared to interrogate her.
I like to have a comfortable relationship with my torturers. I need to find out if they are human, after all. With the exception of Twilight Zone Pulmonologist, I’m sure mine are. However, I’m a let’s-just-get-to-the-point-chat-later, type.
I received the news as I expected I would. The same stoic reaction I have to all emergency, or emotional events. My therapist has done a wonderful job of helping me recognize what my mind is processing. Most of the process is asking myself – what can I do about it?
I patiently waited while Blunt Oncologist rattled off the findings of my scan results. I waited for the diagnosis and plan of attack, which I received.
I can differentiate between what I have control of, and situations I have to wait out, which I don’t have any influence, or control of.
So—what am I annoyed with this morning?
On the print-out she gave me regarding what we discussed, was the word overweight. Wut? All we talked about was getting out and sitting in the pollen infested air, and soaking up some sunshine. Hello? I have asthma, and the pollen seriously screws with my lungs–don’t you know that?
She also went on to say, that exercise will help clear my mind, warding off depression.
All things I know.
I also recognize that I have 25-year-old pregnancy fat to shed, and I have no excuse for hanging onto it, other than the fact that I don’t consistently eat healthy, and my exercise consists of toddling around the grocery store, and loading my shopping bags into the car.
Why couldn’t Blunt Oncologist, or my Primary Torturer just say—you have to shed x amount of pounds? You are not in the healthy range? Why skirt around the issue?
Just say it like it is—you’re overweight, lose the pounds.
So, on the way home, I bought a bag of spice drops and enjoyed each and every one of them–except the purple ones. We didn’t have a healthy dinner last night, and probably won’t tonight.
I may not have control over whether or not cancer is incubating in my body, but I can control how much I feed it, and I can exercise away that baby fat.
And that’s what I intend to do–tomorrow. 🙂
Seriously, that’s what I’m going to do because that is what I CAN control.