I’m still here.
I’m also not usually that melodramatic. Nor that maudlin.
What I have been is obsessed with my doctors and health care providers. It feels as though I’ve been thinking about them constantly. Every symptom or side effect, I consider whether I should call or talk to someone about it. Or does this more warrant just jotting down a reminder to ask at my next appointment?
But somehow, I also think about each new thing I learn about my care providers. This person has kids? How will that affect my treatment? This nurse is currently sick. Will that make her a better, more empathetic care provider or will she miss something? This other nurse I can hear over the infusion room partitions sounds cheery and kind. Why isn’t she my nurse today? What did I do wrong? And when I’ve received what seems to be good news about my progress, I wonder if it’s really good news or just the messenger’s everyday countenance.
And then all the questions I have about my daily routine. Is it OK for me to exercise? What “counts” as exercise? Can I have a foot bath or will that increase my chances of neuropathy? Can I eat this or will it increase my chances the cancer will spread? Can I move my body in this way? Am I too tired? Not tired enough? Am I going to lose my hair again? And on and on and on.
And I have to remind myself that none of them are psychics, able to predict my future. And this isn’t a TV show where each of our storylines intersect in a very precise, pre-ordained way. I am not a character (main or otherwise) and nor are they. And slowly, slowly, I have to let myself trust my own feelings and my own body again. I can’t keep deferring to the professionals (even if it’s just inside my head) and I have to, at some point, trust that I not only can but I should be taking care of my own body. This is not the same as disregarding their expertise and following what they recommend as my treatment options continue. But this is to say that I can and should be also listening to my own body. If I’m tired, I need to rest. If I crave a foot bath, I should have one. Same with food I want to eat and moving my body in the way that it wants to be moved.
Whether or not the care providers view me as “just a patient” doesn’t really matter. What matters is that I’m able to see myself as more than that and as a whole person.