April 4, 2019
April 4, 2019
I finally caved. Two weeks ago I made an appointment with a physicians assistant my best friend had been seeing for years and today was the day I was going to see her.
After my emergency hospital visit in February, I knew I should probably see someone sooner than later, but based on the ER’s conclusion, I didn’t think it was serious enough to scramble to find a doctor to get into right away. After all, the ER didn’t seem too concerned; they simply told me there were a few lymph nodes lighting up on the CT scan. Up until this point in my 26 years I didn’t even know what a lymph node was... How important could it be?
I was pretty certain that the health issues I was having were due to black mold in our home. I’d already googled all of the symptoms I was having and the only conditions that came up were black mold exposure and certain types of cancer. I knew I obviously didn’t have cancer, but I made an appointment with the PA in hopes of getting an answer.
I’d been having a variety of symptoms lately, but all without pain. My breathing felt labored and the anxiety was getting worse. I felt run down most of the time and my hair had started falling out. But I was young and had no other serious health issues, I was confident it was no big deal; Maybe something another supplement or decreased workload could improve.
l had been working more than usual lately and pulling off late nights to get ahead in my work. And because I was so certain that it was black mold exposure, I had already begun looking for new homes. I was on it. I left my girls with my best friend and headed to the clinic, feeling like I was on a mini vacation, as I always do when I’m kid-free.
———-
Within a few minutes of meeting my new primary care provider, I could tell she took her job seriously. Note to self... no jokes. She had small, serious eyes that peered over her tiny glasses which rested on the end of her nose.
As she asked me a series of intake questions, I began to realize how long it had been since I’d been to an actual physicians office. I was a little nervous to admit how long it had been. I silently prayed she wouldn’t ask. The only healthcare I’d had over the last four years was from an OB/GYN. And it wasn’t even time for my annual yet so I was ahead of schedule, right?
As she finished her round of questions, she asked what brought me in. As I told her, I watched her face for sudden movement as I usually do when I’m revealing personal information. Her facial expression remained constant. Firm. Unchanging. A great sign. But, as she began to ask me more pointed, specific questions about the information I offered, I could see the wheels beginning to turn in her head.
By the end of our consultation, she asked me if I would be interested in seeing a psychiatrist. I agreed since the anxiety seemed to be getting more severe and interfering with my breathing at times. I was silently relieved everything else checked out and that her only recommendation was a mental health professional.
As she wrapped up, she mentioned that she also wanted to send me to a blood specialist, just to check out my blood panels and see what came back. She told me I should be expecting a call from the blood specialist later that day and we would move from there.
I thanked her and left the clinic thinking about what we were going to eat for dinner that night and all of the work I had to do during naptime. I also wondered how much a shrink could help but had high expectations of fully recovering from the panicky sensations I’d been feeling all too regularly lately.
———-
Later that afternoon my phone rang. I picked up.
“Hello?”
“Hi this is the CR Wood Cancer Center. I’m looking for Alicyn Christian.”
My heart stopped. But I heard my husband’s voice in my head. “Everything is not always as it seems.” I allowed my heart to beat again. This must be a mistake. Or maybe this is the only clinic around that has a blood specialist. After all it’s not like we lived in a large metro area with multiple hospitals.
“This is Ali.”
“Hi Ali, your PA called us to schedule an appointment. She said it was urgent and she would like for you to get in to see one of our doctors immediately. Do you have some time today or tomorrow?”
This sounded serious, but surely it was an overreaction. She didn’t seem that concerned at my appointment.
“Cancer center? I was expecting a call from a blood specialist.”
She gave an awkward laugh and quickly tried to backtrack. “Oh yes, the blood specialist. This is the blood specialist’s office calling.”
“Okay... well I can’t today (I had an important client call scheduled), but I’m available tomorrow afternoon. “
“OK great, how is 3 o’clock?”
“That works.”
“OK we’ll see you then.”
As soon as I hung up I went to find Ben. My breathing became heavy and I wasn’t sure if I was about to burst into tears or laugh at how big of a mistake this was. The rest of the night I continuously reassured myself that it was a huge overreaction. I was 26, had two young girls and was happily married to my best friend. I had a thriving business and friends & family I loved to death just down the road.