So, I started the new treatment plan. And… I feel off. It’s like I stepped into another dimension and exchanged old symptoms for new symptoms, aka side effects. It’s weird. I shouldn’t be complaining. I should NOT be complaining. I know this. It is a blessing that I can finally see the finish line. But I have to be honest and say that this feels WEIRD.
My doctor told me that I’d probably be back to normal in a couple of months with my current treatment plan. She threw in a disclaimer that if I felt sick from the treatment, and we needed to adjust, we could tweak it as we go along. She was so light-hearted about it, I almost dismissed it. Almost.
My body nearly laughed at me when I jumped headlong into a new pill regimen. I’m a week in, and we’ve already had to adjust my dosage amounts. I feel a little weakling for not being able to just stomach it like a boss. But this past year was full of lessons, and one of the big lessons was learning how to flow with my body instead of fighting it. This my opportunity to practice what I’ve learned. Everything in me wants to skip ahead to the day that I feel one hundred percent normal, but I can’t push. I have to be gentle. I will get there if I work with my body, not against it.
If I can be honest, I didn’t expect this part of the journey to be easy. I knew deep down that I would experience some discomfort, but I secretly hoped that I was wrong. I want easy. I want comfortable. I WANT a miracle. But that isn’t how life works. Everything worth having costs something. I now know this from experience. Everything in life worth having costs something.
I claim to want to be better, and some temporary discomfort is the price. So, I will be patient with my body, adjust where needed, and accept this discomfort as a part of the process. Your girl is determined to suck it up and win.
This week I went to the doctor, and it went well.
As I write that statement, it feels very anticlimactic. I've been dealing with undiagnosed symptoms in my body for a little over a year. The health issues forced me to stop my life and evaluate my values just like what the current pandemic has done to America. It began as the scariest experience of my life and slowly transformed into the most revelatory experience of my life, and it has become the most precious experience of my life. It was my wilderness season, where I wandered, found God, and found myself. It's been beautiful.
When my health started to get rocky, I went to many medical professionals and they couldn't find anything. Then I started going to a holistic practitioner that kept me going, helping me rebuild my energy and understand what my body doesn't like. It wasn't cheap, but I kept doing it. Over time, I stopped going to medical doctors every time I felt scared. They weren't giving me answers, and deep down I felt like God was telling me to just be patient with my body, so it could heal.
Then, out of nowhere, about two months ago, I got felt a release to go see a medical doctor. That urge was a complete surprise to me because I didn't think I'd ever find one that could actually help me. I got scared too. I'd become so connected to my body that I didn't want anyone to touch it without the utmost care. But if this past year taught me anything, it's that I have to follow my spirit. So, I started the process.
I had a candid conversation with my holistic practitioner. I told her that I felt like my body needed something more, and I probably should see a doctor, even though I wasn't sure who. She immediately said she had a contact that could help. She referred me to someone she fully trusted that specialized in the care I needed. Then, she told me what to have the doctor look for. At that moment, I felt like she handed me the secret keys to the kingdom. I wasn't sure if anything would come of it, but I was committed to trying.
I called the doctor, and it took about a month to get in with her. We talked through my symptoms, and she was the first doctor who heard my full story and took it seriously. She could even tell me where the issue started based on what happened, and she created a plan.
I had blood drawn, had to wait for the results, and scheduled a follow-up appointment. The whole process from the first call until my recent visit took two months. For two months, I felt like I'd stumbled into the right doctor but had to wait. I had to wait to even see if treatment was possible. The waiting wasn't fun, but eventually, I got good at it. I waited until it was time.
I went into the doctor's office this week, and she was able to tell me exactly what was wrong with my body and had a treatment plan to fix it. Thankfully, I hadn't developed a disease or disorder. My body just had some deficiencies and imbalances that triggered pain. We just needed to give my body what it lacked, so it could rebalance itself. After a year of quiet internal work and two months of waiting, I finally got answers.
I left that office with peace in my heart and a treatment plan in my hand. And I had the thought, "That's it?" My healing didn't come wrapped in dramatics. A year of dealing with my heart, two months of contacting the right doctor, and waiting, and my wilderness season was finally closing with one quiet meeting that changed everything.
My doctor said it will probably take two months of treatment to be back to normal. It all depends on how my body responds. I have a feeling that she's right.
It all felt anticlimatic when I sat down to write this, but now that I'm reflecting I'm tearing up. I'm learning that goodness can be simple. It doesn't have to dramatic because goodness is enough. It's been a journey, and this chapter is closing in the best way. I'm grateful. I am content. I have answers...finally.
Right now I'm in the middle. You know, those times when you're waiting on something awesome and you don't quite know what to do with yourself in the meanwhile? I am waiting on three opportunities as I write this: some are professional, some are personal. It's exciting but also a little... frustrating. I'm right in the middle. It's like I'm back in my senior year of high school, and I can see my graduation finish line. I'm moody. I'm over it. AND I feel guilty for being over it because these are first world problems. I spend most of my mental energy taming my inner brat.
I have always been terrible at waiting:
When I look back, I realize this nervous energy has less to do with excitement for the future and more to do with discomfort in the present. I have to work on staying still and enjoying the moment until it's time for a change. Otherwise, I'm miserable during a time when I should be celebrating and soaking up the world around me.
If I could talk to my younger self, I would tell her to slow down and enjoy all of it. I would tell myself to celebrate my hard work and recognize that the season I was so anxious to get out of was really beautiful all along. I can't really talk to my younger self, but I can talk to my present self.
Cyrah, the present is beautiful. Enjoy it. Celebrate it. Because when the future comes, the present will be over, and you don't want to have missed it.