Of the medical establishment, imagination, and "space and grace"

Sometimes it's a real curse to have an overactive imagination. Especially one that trends toward disaster. I waited for almost two weeks for the results of my mammogram. Now, it had been four years since my last scan, due to my dad's ill health, his dying, and Covid, so I was a bit nervous about the whole thing-- who, at my age and my gender, wouldn't be? 

Two weeks of imagining the worst. Of being preoccupied. Of heavy praying. 

I'm fine.

Amen.

When I saw the envelope in the mail, I was both scared and relieved. I mean, I got the hospital survey about the care I received before the actual results. When I finally filled out the survey, I didn't trash the kind people who took care of me through the process, but I did leave a pointed message about the long wait. The radiologist was on vacation. Now, I don't blame anyone for wanting a vacation, but could the schedulers not book patients in for when there is no one to read the scans? 

Anyhow, I think this is, in some smallish part, a reason to take a hard look at our medical system in the United States. Taking care of the patient --the whole person-- is something most medical professionals talk about, and I think they mean it. However, the two week wait was hell on my mental health. If I were the sort of person who really trended towards despair (and there are some days I know I drift a little too close), bad things could have come from this period of not knowing. 

In the darker hours, like the middle of the night when I woke up and couldn't sleep, I really took stock of my situation. What could I do to make things right with myself and the people I love? What resentments and angers did I cling to? Why not let those go? How could I make sure my family would be okay if I were to be ill or die? I spent a lot of time thinking about what I'd miss, who I'd miss, and what was really important to me. I do not ever want to be the source of anyone's discomfort, let along the financial devastation it would visit upon my family. These two weeks of uncertainty brought some things into focus for me. Perspective comes from real soul-searching. It seems I was well overdue for a real gut-check. 

Yes, national and global politics scare me, and climate change, and wealth inequities, and crimes against children and older folks, etc. Yes, I get annoyed when there's globs of toothpaste in the sink. But, as they say, I generally have my health. And my family. And a few solid friends. I have a home, a job, and most of all, I have my faith. These should be enough, and they are the people and things I value most. I need to make better use of my time, and take better care of myself.

I hope that the internal dialogues I've been having for two weeks keep me focused and will help me make some real and lasting personal changes. And I hope that my imagination does not drag me down that dark tunnel again, at least for a good long time. It's a difficult path to walk, that "dark night of the soul" (St. John of the Cross).

Enjoy every day, folks.  Nothing is promised. And usually, most folks are doing the best they can with what they have to work with--materially, emotionally, and mentally. As a good friend of mine often says, we need to give each other, and ourselves, "space and grace." I have had to learn what that means in a whole new way lately. 

Take good care,

C