A little ode to the RHCP right there. ^
It's such a weird feeling being on the other side of the healthcare industry. 4-5 times a week I'm the one poking people, touching people, asking all sorts of questions. But today, I was the one laying on the gurney being poked and prodded. And the best part? I'm not done. I have one more doctor's appointment after this.
All I could think about is how many people out there do this every day. Me? I'm complaining because I had to get blood work and a precautionary ultrasound. I'm complaining because I have access to top of the line healthcare and testing. I'm complaining because I'm not healing fast enough after an elective operation to make my life better.
I have no right to complain.
The hospital/healthcare system I use is known nationwide of its cancer treatment and research. The hospital is filled with cancer survivors, cancer patients, and those who walk into the building not knowing if they're going to leave with a new cancer diagnosis. There's patients who are having life-changing operations and going through ground breaking clinical trials.
Yet here I am whining because I have two appointments in one day.
You'd think working in the medical field (and for those of you who are new to my blog, I'm an emergency and trauma nurse), I'd be a little more humble. But I'm not. I'm still me, and I'm an entitled piece of shit sometimes.
It's not easy being on the other side of things, and it's certainly not easy spending your day off in and out of appointments and tests. But here's what put things in perspective for me: while I was in the waiting room, I was scrolling facebook (of course) and saw that an old co-worker, who is only a few years older than me, announced she's in remission from cancer. Wait. What? The last time I saw her she was perfectly fine. She's only thirty. What?
Then I thought about it. The last time I saw her, a few years ago, she was complaining of pain and tingling. It was non-specific, no one could really identify what was going on, but it was there. To the point that it brought her to tears.
Now, she's 6 months cancer free. I can't be sure the two are related but I think I have a pretty good idea. My point is, never in a million years would she have imagined she'd have cancer at thirty-something. She's healthy, not overweight, a Physician Assistant, and one of the sweetest people you'd meet. Yet it happened to her.
Health crises can happen to anyone, at any time.
Self: Count your blessings and enjoy the fact that you're sitting in a waiting room for elective testing for non-life-threatening problems, on your day off because you're fortunate to even have a job.