It turns out I don’t have anything. No cancer. The stupid hospital made a stupid ass mistake and caused me to really freak out for two weeks, for nothing. I found out Thursday afternoon, and confirmed Friday with my doctor.
I’d gotten more and more anxious again, starting on the weekend, and I’d called the doctor’s office and left a message, and they didn’t call back. After carrying my phone around non-stop for two days, I called the clinic. They did call back the same day, leaving a message that there is ‘no record’ of my appointment next week on the system – just my six month regular appointment.
My mother said to go to my regular doctor to make sure, and she fit me in right away. The scan was clear for any cancer. They find lots of weird things with scans, but apparently it’s all nothing to worry about.
So. When I got the message from the clinic, I just folded in half and just breathed for a few minutes, I was so relieved/upset/surprised. I was at work but had taken the phone to a meeting room. The rest of the day, I had trouble absorbing this news. I’d been so frightened, I couldn’t seem to stop the fright. It was as if I couldn’t process it all.
Going to my family doctor the next day, that fear rose up again. What if I have something? I knew that if I did, I would deal with it, but was still afraid. I basically switched into the kid from the stress in her office, from the sheer relief, when she read me the results. I almost cried, and babbled something about not having cancer and being great.
The doctor was nice, reassuring, cheerful. I wish I hadn’t switched, but she’ll just think I’m very emotional and overwrought.
Today, Saturday, I’m just getting used to not being scared. It’s just taken this long for this news to settle in.
I had therapy Thursday evening, just a few hours after I’d found out, and couldn’t really process anything, I was just so wound up. Ron suggested expressing my feelings somehow, moving or drawing, but I couldn’t. It was as if different parts of me where feeling a lot but all jumbled up, and I couldn’t feel anything properly.
I don’t know what happened with the hospital, why they called me to tell me about this non-existent appointment. Maybe I was mixed up with some other patient, who got this follow-up appointment, but no call. Who knows. It’s good I followed up with my GP, because when they start making mistakes, I want to know it’s not a mistake about my test results.
I’m alive. Back to my regular problems. I’m determined to make some kind of life though, as best I can. Not to waste it.