Health.

October 21, 2007 at 4:21 am Leave a comment

“Any other complaints for me,” the doctor asks.

I shake my head in the negative, wondering if vomiting large amounts of blood is not alarming enough to him. In my experience, ER doctors tend to be grossly unfazed by symptoms more commonly thought to be life-threatening (such as vomiting blood) and more interested in the smaller details (such as when you last took a shit and what you have been eating today). So he asks me to lay back so he can “check.” This exam always pisses me off. It seems like such a waste of my time, almost as if it is a stalling technique.  But I lean back, watching the room spin and feeling the pressure in my abdomen press upwards, again making it hard to take a full and complete breath in.

“Does this hurt?”

“No.”

“This?”

Feeling as if dear doctor is about to get a visual on why I came here, I push out another “No.”

He presses a bit lower, right next to my right hip bone and I feel a jolt. He looks up and says, “probably you are ovulating, yes? This is your time?”

My time? My time? It spins in my head. Time. Time ended about a year ago. This aspect of my life, I explain to him, is something pre-chemo, pre-cancer, and what I typically associate with my healthy days. “You know,” he says with a slight grin,”you are becoming more towards health everyday. Your body feels health before you can.”

I liked how that sounded. And I wished he repeated it for me, slowly, so I could soak in his diagnosis completely. It was as if I got the diagnosis of “woman” back. Sliding back into my own self, my own cycles, my own body … with an awareness this time, that she could leave me, again, at any time.  

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Entry filed under: ALL.

…. and then I grew up. Heartbreak

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