I’ve been going about things the wrong way.
I had my third medical appointment this month. That’s quite enough, wouldn’t you agree?
The urologist appointment this afternoon went very well. It turns out that I just have a strong, overactive bladder made even more overactive because of the MS and CP. After the appointment, I breathed a huge sigh of relief. I’ve been given another medication to help with my bladder issues. It was actually a lovely experience this afternoon; but it brought to mind something that I’ve been thinking about.
See the thing is, like most people, I don’t like doctors. I don’t like hospitals, clinics, doctors offices, etc. I know that a lot of people are like this, that despite the fact that the doctors and nurses are there to help us, a lot of us suffer from white coat syndrome.
I’ve seen an awful lot of doctors and nurses throughout the past year. As I’ve learned to take control of my body again, I’ve had to. It’s a necessity. However, the truth would be that I’m afraid of them and the news they could bring.
I shouldn’t be. I’ve received such amazing care from all the doctors and nurses that have helped me on my path to getting better; my path to a better me.
From the neurologist who saw me first in the emergency room, to the home visit nurse that showed me how to inject myself with the Copaxone; from the nurse that helped me during my spinal tap and kept me talking about my writing so I didn’t have to focus on what was happening.
There was the nurse who did my eye testing, the doctors who have looked over every MRI. Then there is my regular neurologist and my MS nurse. They are gifted at what they do and I’m better in part because of them. My friend Rachael has an expression that she uses: everyday angels. Each one of my doctors, neurologists and nurses has been an everyday angel.
That doesn’t stop me from dreading my appointments, however. I normally get ramped up emotionally with just one appointment to look forward to. With three appointments this month, my emotions have been hypersensitive.
I know that stress is a horrible thing for MS, that it can bring on symptoms if it continues for a long period, but I always assume that the news will be bad, that my world will all of a sudden change again and I’ll have no control over it.
That kind of thinking puts me into overdrive. My fatigue sets in, my brain fog takes shape, growing like a mushroom cloud in my head. My speech problems show themselves, hurling out of my mouth, each word is like a stone. My temper flares a lot more easily, ready to ignite at the merest provocation. I know that my symptoms exist whether or not I’m stressing out about things, but it does make it worse.
After the positive appointment with my neurologist earlier this month, I decided to try something a little differently. I tried as much as possible not to stress about my appointments. I wasn’t always successful, but it was a marked turn in my behaviour.
I was able to approach the testing at the urology clinic with an almost Zen like state. Whatever will be will be, was my thought. I remained calm during the whole process which turned out to be in my favour as they got more accurate results.
So when I attended the results appointment today, I said to myself again: whatever will be, will be. Did I have trouble sleeping last night? Yes. Was I out of it a little for the morning? Yes, I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t.
However, I was prepared for whatever the urologist had to tell me, whatever my results would be. I mean, this is my life right? I have a choice: I can ignore the help that the everyday angels are giving me, or I can accept it.
I’ve been going about things the wrong way.
I’ve been focusing so much on my spiritual self and my physical self, convinced that I can do everything on my own. The truth is, that I need help along the way, wherever my path takes me. The everyday angels aren’t there to inspire fear, stress, etc. in me. They’re there to help me.
I just have to be open to accepting their help.