In order to explain the importance of today's story, a little background information is necessary:
Two years ago in June, my father died while I was hospitalized.
Without meaning to, I transferred my personal power and sense of being protected to the doctors who orchestrated my care.
I had no idea that I had done this.
Six months later, after a long while of feeling vaguely ill, I began to experience a persistent, twinging pain in my lower abdomen. After a few days of this, the day after Christmas to be exact, I contacted my OB-GYN to see if I could make an appointment to get it checked out.
Her office was on holiday break at the time, and the partner doctor with whom I spoke sounded an immediate alarm. "You need to go right to the ER," she said - "It sounds like you have appendicitis."
Immediately I was filled with fear and worry. Without hesitation I gathered my wallet, keys, purse and a book and set off for the ER. I had almost never been to an emergency facility before *but* had gotten quite familiar with doctor's offices during my three pregnancies.
I'd grown to feel that they were places of safety; harbingers of miracles.
What had started as a simple telephone call rapidly devolved into an entire weekend at the hospital. Test after test was run, all of them expensive, to try to determine the root of the pain and whether or not I would need a laparoscopic surgery for appendicitis.
During my weekend at the hospital, I was given one pelvic ultrasound. A CT-scan, which read "equivocal" due to my allergy to IV contrast (no contrast = hard to read = equivocal scan= radiation equivalent to 400 chest xrays for NOTHING). Then an MRI which was slightly more emphatic regarding the LACK of appendicitis, and finally one more CT-scan (whee! we're at 800 chest xrays!) which at last demonstrated NO appendicitis and revealed only a significant lumbar disc herniation.
After much exhaustion, a lifetime worth of unnecessary radiation, and so much stress that my adrenal glands were significantly diminished, I was unceremoniously released with the pronouncement:
"We don't know what the pain is but if you were going to have acute appendicitis, it would happened by now. Whatever you've got isn't acute. Please follow up with your GP."
I left the hospital worn down, mentally drained, and feeling as though I might have a bladder infection. When the OB ran tests, she found only a very common form of Group B Strep... something that 1/3 to 1/2 of the women in the world carry at all times. For months thereafter she treated me with antibiotic after antibiotic, none of which took away the pain or feeling of discomfort, even when the strep went away.
Finally a specialist told me the truth - "The strep is a false alarm. They don't know what is causing your pain."
Not long after all of this, Aetna decided NOT to pay for one of the CT-scans or the MRI that the ER doctors had ordered. "Those procedures were not medically necessary," they wrote, "and required preauthorization." I then fought for nearly a year to get the insurance company to pay for the scans I was told were mandatory before I could leave the hospital. It was a mess.
This was the beginning of my long medical odyssey, which ultimately proved far more complex than anyone had imagined and ultimately turned up an IRBBB, dysfunctional esophagus, Lyme Disease and autoimmunity. I also discovered after visiting an allergist that when I strictly avoid foods that I am allergic to, I have no pain or burning.
Over the course of 18 months, I have become so well versed in medical knowledge that my husband has often teased me that I deserve an honorary degree in medicine or nursing.
I have definitely become much more comfortable with my own understanding of the human body, medications, and physician protocol.
I've also begun to work with my own spiritual and mental energy, and actively focusing on keeping myself within alignment. I'm learning how to turn my thoughts around and focus them on what I WANT, not what I DON'T WANT.
Today then brings a really powerful story of the Law of Attraction, and reclaiming what is mine.
THE TURNING POINT
Last week, I once again began to experience the identical symptoms that I had in late 2009.
It's been a long while though, and I'm on a lot of antibiotics and supplements - so I couldn't be absolutely sure that I was dealing with the same thing.
When I saw my rheumatologist last Wed and described how I was feeling, he pushed me to see an OB-GYN. on Friday, I did so... the same one who originally prescribed me 5 antibiotics for the Group B Strep and ultimately referred me out to a specialist because she had no further help for me.
She did the checkup, took cultures, and told me she thought I had an ovarian cyst which would resolve in a month. She gave me a lab slip for a pelvic ultrasound to do Monday (today) and sent me on my way.
As the weekend progressed, I felt worse. I woke nauseated on Sunday, unable to eat, with the pain continuing in my lower pelvis.
Not wanting to jump to conclusions, I called an Aetna 24/7 nurse and she encouraged me to speak with my OB-GYN again... "I think you may need to be seen tonight," she said.
I called the OB - and 18 months later, it was like an echo... nearly the same conversation.
"I think you should go to an ER to rule out appendicitis and ovarian torsion," she said.
"I really don't want to do that. I do not think this is appendicitis, and if I can just wait until morning I can go get that ultrasound performed that you'd recommended."
We went back and forth.
Finally she caved. "Why don't we go with a middle ground? Is there an urgent care center near you? You could just go get some bloodwork done to make sure your white blood cell count isn't too high. They might also be able to rule out the ovarian torsion."
I sighed. "Fine," I said. I knew I was in for a long night.
As I drove to the Urgent Care center, I listened to one of my Abraham-Hicks CDs and thought about what kind of life I want to be living. I decided, no matter what happened, that I was going to use this Urgent Care experience as an opportunity to focus only on the positive, and on the things I most wanted.
Good thing, because I was in for a heck of an evening.
The wait to be seen was nearly two hours. When I finally got seen, the nurse used an antiseptic on my arm that I'd just told them I was allergic to... and then popped an IV in my arm without my consent.
"What are you doing?"
"Doc ordered an IV."
"Um, no. Not with my consent. He and I didn't talk about that at all."
"Okay, well - I might have to draw blood from your arm more than once."
"Fine."
"You'll need an IV if you get a CT-scan."
"I'm not going to have a CT-scan."
"You'll need one if you have appendicitis."
"I don't have appendicitis."
"Well you'll need an IV to get contrast."
"I'm allergic to contrast."
...and so forth.
By the time she left my room I heard another nurse say to her, "What's wrong? You look seriously perturbed!"
In truth, over the last 18 months I've become a difficult patient. I'm informed. I know what I want, and what I don't want. I know the risks of common procedures. I don't accept treatment without researching it, and I *definitely* don't accept treatment that Aetna has not pre-authorized.
It was a very long night. Five hours, in fact, before I was allowed to stumble out of the Urgent Care at 3am and make my way home.
During the latter hours, I rejected a CT-scan not once but several times. I did accept bloodwork and the pelvic ultrasound that showed a perfectly normal body. No cyst. No torsion.
The doctor wasn't thrilled with my bloodwork, or the nausea. However, after a long and very in-depth conversation he said, "Well, the truth is a woman under the age of 40 who has had 4 CT-scans of the abdomen has an increased risk of breast cancer of approximately 1-2%. They're your breasts and not mine, so I'm comfortable letting you make the call. Your bloodwork isn't perfect but it isn't THAT bad."
He then told me that the CT-scanner at their sister-office in a different part of the city was newer and gave off 40% less radiation than the one at the facility we were sitting in. "If you feel the same or worse tomorrow," he advised, "Go to that office and then if you need a CT at least you'll be getting about half the radiation."
I wonder how many women realize that your cancer risk can vary so much based simply upon WHERE you get scanned and how new their scanner is. Pretty amazing.
Here though, is the crucial part of my evening:
I spent the entire time visualizing the positive. Keeping my thoughts and feelings focused on where I *wanted* to be. I thought of my children, and how I wished I was kissing their sweet heads. I thought of places I wanted to take them, like the art museum and the zoo and the theme park. I thought about things I wanted to do with them like cook, bake, go to the park, laugh and tell jokes.
Most of all, I thought of the beach. I thought long and hard about how I wanted to be feeling healthy and sitting at the beach, watching the waves crash into the sand under a sunny sky. Every time I heard a nurse say something in the hallway, I focused on the beach. When they wheeled me to the ultrasound room, I focused on the beach.
I kept my energy only positive, only strong.
Finally they released me and after nearly crawling into our house I fell into a fitful slumber. My husband, bless his heart, took the kids to school and on errands so that I could sleep in.
This afternoon I received a call from the OB-GYN office. "Your cultures are back! You have Group B Strep. The doctor wants to treat you with clindamycin."
"Um, yeah- " I responded - "I've had that same Group B Strep for at least 18 months. With every single culture. It's a red herring. I'm just a carrier. It's not the problem."
"Oh, really?"
"Yes. Have you read my file?"
"Well, no."
"Okay well, thanks for the call. I appreciate your time and you're welcome to fax the prescription but I'm not sure I'll be acting on it. This is not a new problem."
Then I had to decide what to do about the appendicitis risk and ultrasound. We decided that I would head back to urgent care to get the scan so that I could relax and sleep well tonight.
When I got to their office though, I could tell that it would be another 2-3 hour wait. Looking at the line and then out at the beautiful day, I decided to move on to the sister office.
As I drove down the side of the hill toward the freeway heading East, I looked west and saw a dazzling ocean view. The sea glittered under the sky and suddenly I realized that I was looking at my vision. The same vision I'd held to so strongly all night yesterday.
Right then, my stomach started to growl for the first time in two days.
"Oh my gosh - I'm hungry!" I thought. "Should I go get something to eat? Or should I go to the sister urgent care clinic to get a scan?"
"Follow what you WANT," said my intuition, "You're OKAY!" - and for the first time in two years, I decided to follow my own gut instinct rather than medical advice.
Pulling to the side of the road, I made my decision. "You know, I'm going to get a burger!" My stomach growled its approval.
Thirty minutes later with a protein-style burger and fries in hand, I pulled back in front of that same beach and stopped my truck. Got out, stretched, and made my way down to the sand. Sat and watched the sun sparkle on the water. Took a deep breath.
And ate. I ate that entire burger with gusto and joy.
"I DO know myself better than any doctor does. I don't care if the bloodwork was a little off. I feel okay. The pain is much better. I'm hungry. It's a beautiful day. And what I WANT is to be here - right here."
Suddenly I realized that this was my moment of moments.
The moment when I finally reclaimed my personal power, took control of my own health again, and stopped relying upon the advice of others to tell me how my own body felt or what I should do to 'play it safe'.
To celebrate I collected two small shells and two smooth rocks, talismans to keep in my pocket and run my hand across to remember what is REAL.
(My husband was so happy. "That was a GREAT decision," he encouraged. "I know you're fine. I know you!!!")
It is 8:30pm and I currently have no pain. I am at home, taking care of my children and spending time with my husband, participating in our family ~ and so happy to be here! I know I will stay well this evening. If perchance tomorrow brings pain or fever, I know how to take care of it, where to go and what to do.
It's great to feel empowered again, and at peace.
Tonight instead of worrying about my health, I'm busy visualizing the life I want to be living. This is what it feels like to live without anxiety.
I love it.
