I worry about my health a lot.
I’m one of those people who type their symptoms into Google waaaay too often. So when I was having trouble these last few months losing the few extra pounds I’ve gained this past year, I immediately thought there was something wrong with me. “Can’t lose weight, symptom,” I typed steadily into my Google search bar. I found all sort of things – my thyroid levels could be off, I could have low iron, I could have cancer.
I’ve been this way for most of my adult life. As many of you know, when I was 8 years old, my mother died of a brain aneurysm. Getting a kiss from mom before I went school on Tuesday. Motherless by Thursday. I am not telling you this for sympathy. I am explaining why I always think the worst is about to happen, and suddenly too.
I once dropped my bag on the street in Israel and started running when I heard a loud noise. I had to casually saunter back to pick it up, pretending like I hadn’t just done something crazy moments earlier.
I once yelled out on a plane, “We’re all going to die!” when we hit some terrible turbulence.
Need I illustrate further?
So I was looking forward to my 6-month checkup with my neurologist to run my new worrisome symptom by him. He would definitely have an answer, or at least know where to direct me for further testing.
Virtual visits are awesome, by the way. You just log on and wait a few minutes, and voila! Your doctor appears on the screen in front of you. No waiting rooms, no waiting in little rooms after that. You log on at your prescheduled time and you see the doctor at your prescheduled time. It’s life-changing.
After he ran through the usual questions about my health, he asked me if I had any new symptoms I wanted to discuss. I immediately got down to business and started telling him about my worrisome weight gain. He paused after I finished, after which I thought he would tell me to go for further testing to find out what troubling disease I might have. And then, after a brief pause, he looked right into the camera and said this:
“Chana, here is what you have to do: Eat less. Exercise more.”
Brilliant scientific guidance from the clinical director of the National Multiple Sclerosis Society, folks, and I’m here to pass on the wisdom.
Immediately, sheepishly, I took a few steps back from the cliff I was standing on. I often think I am just a few minutes away from impending doom, when really that is not usually the case.
Deep down, I know this to be true, but him telling me so yanked me back to reality. A little weight gain does not have to be an ominous sign of a disease. A headache does not have to indicate an impending stroke. A little turbulence does not mean we’re crashing. Always expecting the worst is a part of who I am, but it doesn’t mean it has to stay that way. I can work to change that.
It behooves me to focus on the blessings that I have, appreciating them more. If I am not always looking over my shoulder, waiting for the other shoe to drop, I can focus on the road ahead, one step at a time, and enjoy the moment a little more. I know that I will have less anxiety this way, but putting it into practice is harder for me than I imagined.
I will start by not worrying about publishing this post, as I often do before I hit “Publish.” Living life means being honest with ourselves and with each other. And this post is honest, if nothing else.