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Dr. Quinn, Medicine Woman
Clever title, isn’t it? Of course, I’m not a doctor nor a medicine woman, and over the last few weeks I’ve learned how inept I am at diagnosing just about anything.
Some of you might have read my post about going to the emergency room on April 12. It was a very unpleasant experience. And generated unacknowledged fear on my part, given the further tests I would need to endure. So this is what the last couple of weeks have revealed.
Round #1
Drawing on my common sense and reason (I thought), I figured out all on my own what my diagnosis likely (most certainly) was. After all, I was scheduled for a cystoscopy on May 19 (where a little camera goes into the bladder), so I changed my diet to get ahead of the (obvious) diagnosis, eliminating some of my favorite foods and beverages: coffee, chocolate, and wine. I tried to keep a stiff upper lip, but I had so enjoyed them in limited quantities. I tried not to stare when my husband drank a glass of zinfandel and ate one chocolate chip cookie (with gigantic chocolate chunks) after dinner.
Round #2
Meanwhile, I had to endure a biopsy of my uterus. The gynecologist seemed alarmed with what he found, which included a mass. He cautioned me that surgery was likely in my future. So I envisioned cancer, hysterectomy, and chemotherapy ahead and all their unpleasant effects. But I’m tough and I knew I would get through it with sheer willpower. And I was very worried.
Round #3
So I was referred to a gynecological oncologist. I visited her yesterday. I braced myself for the worst. She looked at my ultrasounds from the emergency room, amazingly received the biopsy results in three days, and did an exam. Guess what?
The mass is attached to my urethra. No hysterectomy, no chemo, no after-effects.
Oops.
In fact, she said everything looked great, and the cystoscopy would likely answer our questions. I could go for walks and eat and drink as I wished.
Round #4
After all my self-diagnosing, guesses, prognostications, and worst-case scenarios, none of it came to be. I realize that there was a touch of arrogance and a great deal of fear that compelled me to try to control future outcomes, and I’m not out of the woods yet. Of course, I could obsess about my urethra and bladder (which sounds really gross), but that doesn’t seem like a good idea. Instead, I’ll actually do (rather than mimic my following my own wisdom) what is best for me do:
Get back to the moment. Relax. Pray.
When my mind wants to dwell on the unknown, I’ll focus on my blessings, enjoy the Florida sunshine, and connect with my friends. And I will tell all of them that rather than discussing the future, I’m going to focus on how great life is.
And eat chocolate chip cookies, drink great wine, and of course, relish our Friday margaritas.
Published in Culture
Wonderful news! So happy for you.
My husband calls it borrowing trouble. I used to be a huge borrower. Over the years of our marriage, I have slowly decreased my borrowing to pretty manageable levels. Still working on it.
Yes, I doubt I’m “cured” of doing it, @eb. It’s a lifetime commitment. I’m spoiled because I have lived a relatively healthy life. But I, too, will keep working on it!
In Alice in Wonderland, Alice says to herself, “I give myself very good advice but I very seldom follow it,” a line I have had occasion to apply to myself often. Now that your advice is here for all to see, you’ll not escape. Enjoy! And congratulations!
Thanks, @sandy. I’m assuming that the congratulations is for what I’ve learned, since the future is still unknown. Thanks for the good wishes–and Alice had it right! I’ll do my best!
Curiously though, your posts usually make me feel better.
Particularly this one
Blessings, Susan.
Funny, isn’t it, as we get closer to our “sell by” date, we ponder each bruise and pain as indicative of an accelerating timeline. Most of the time we find it’s nothing, or easily dealt with. And yet, in our earlier minds, it had become worthy of deathwatch. I’m glad you are well. When I drink my G&T (going for the quinine and lime) tonight, I’ll tip one for you.
Also, gin is a mental health restorative.
Good health!
Happy news. :-) Wonderful!
Thank you so much, @percival. There’s healing for me in your words.
Thanks so much, @dougkimball. Your sentence highlighted above is so very true.
I can’t help laughing at myself, as I read people’s positive comments. A part of me is saying, wait, wait, I’m still not well! Then again, I can check one fear off the list, I have learned something important, and I’m also so cared for by so many of you. Does it get any better than that?!
I’m very pleased to hear your good news. “Borrowing trouble” seems to be a life-long habit for many of us; I wonder if there isn’t some kind of pleasure involved in that.
Count your blessings. My brother-in-law has bladder cancer which recurred after treatment but, because of the virus hysteria, he can’t get in to see the urologist and hasn’t been seen since January.
@jimmcconnell, I’m not sure if it’s masochism or fear or both. But I think I know what you mean!
@michaelkennedy, I’m so sorry. In my case, I don’t know what is going on. And there’s always a chance they will postpone my appointment. Prayers for all of you; I hope he has a positive outcome.
Very happy for you, Susan! The miracles of modern medical technology quickly rendered your worries for naught, and I hope, will further quickly address the underlying issue.
Barely a blip,nice going. God bless.
“. . . relish our Friday margaritas.”
Whew!!! Make it a pitcher . . .
Not unless you want me falling under the table, @stad! Or are you coming over?
Self-isolating until I can get a haircut . . .
Umm, no.
Glad to hear the good news. Know that you may still be in for some treatment and recuperation. Prayers, and wishes for all things good. Including (especially) margaritas! Have one for me please.
This made me laugh. My mother (one of the world’s most difficult people) was fond of saying “sometimes the only thing to do with good advice is pass it on.” I remember that, and often follow her guidance.
Amen.
Hang in, Susan. The world isn’t done with you yet.
I’m definitely counting on that, @she. Thanks so very much.
“…dwell in possibility…” (Emily Dickinson)
I literally read this about an hour ago – I thought it was for me – then I read your wonderful post and realized it was for you! I am going to have a glass of wine right now in your honor. Nothing but sunlight, wellness and chocolate chips in your future, Dr. Q. (And it was a great title!)
I think a rational mind should conclude that giving up coffee, chocolate, and wine cured you.
It’s very good news that you don’t have a wretched disease in your womb! I think our ability to look up our symptoms on the interwebs enables us to horrible-ize our conditions in such wonderful ways! In the olden days (of my grandfather) a person would only find out that they had a deadly affliction shortly before it killed them. Where’s the fun in that??
I wonder if doctors are weary of patients coming in to inform them of their conditions?
Thanks so much, @imfine. It’s always sweet to hear from you, and especially this time. I did want people to relate to this OP. Are you okay? PM if you’d prefer.
I’m drinking a margarita now in your honor!
L’chaim! Cheers! Thanks, @LoisLane! It really does feel like a win over our destructive irrationality for peace and reality.
:)
Good news, nice to hear.
what are they recommending next and has FL lifted non-emergency surgeries? I can’t keep up with what’s what