Tick Dock Here Comes the Doc

Sometimes things that you don’t think you need can be amazing. I have a new doctor, who can come to me. I didn’t expect to like her but Sprite rolled belly up. If I didn’t know her so well I would presume she loved everyone. She may allow some who are only moderately okay to pet her but no, she’s in adoration of the home healthcare doctor. This doctor has a blood pressure cuff for the wrist that is accurate and also doesn’t leave me bruised. That’s  right, accurate and no bruised. It’s great. I can have an Xray in my house, she thinks my jaw is not broken (yay) but that I damaged the tissues around it. This has caused some funny inflammation. My medications that aren’t morphine (I can get that easily from my pain meds doctor and that won’t change) have been denied. Need an inhaler? Not without going into the office. Not an issue now.

The only issue was trying to remember everything that’s wrong with me. I only forgot six, and remembered by the time we were done. I used my white board to write things down when the words didn’t come. She handled the Autistic things I was troubled by today well. I was unable to make eye contact or even fake it for more than five seconds. I also ate my brunch infront of her and she left with the recipe for Meat Cake. Sprite even wants Meat Cake but I will not share.

There was no judgement, just a bit of surprise at some of what challenges me and a reminder that I only have to go to the ER for emergencies and to call the office first because most of the time someone can come to me. No more immune system challenges! I feel relief honestly, and joy.

Oh hey look two posts about good things in a row! Scary isn’t it? Oogah boogah!

Isms, Hisms and Hersms

I read a few blogs on the internet circuit, some of them deal with feminism, some deal with racism, some deal with ableism, and others deal with Fatism. Isms of all shapes, sizes, colors, and one for each of us, sometimes two. Someone was having a sale on their isms when our culture was created, tossing them out like sprinkles on a cake. I am tired of isms today.

I have a great doctor. I will recommend her to just about anyone, for in her office there are no isms, just lists of things to get done. I now have an epipen, a referral for the dozens of undiagnosed whats its, and even a new diagnosis. I also was given the option of advocating for breast cancer awareness. The point was made that with my body being as it is, I have become acutely aware of risks and am in the perfect position to teach other disabled women about breast cancer.

I have thankfully never had breast cancer or even felt a strange lump but I do self exams weekly. I know it is recommended that you do monthly examinations, yet, this is not enough for me. I have relatives who have had cancer in all of their parts. Breast, brain, uterine, ovarian, liver, lung, you name it, and it has had cancer. I also have a lot of conditions, including one that effects my skin and therefore hypervigilance is necessary. Beyond this, what has made my doctor decide I am a great advocate? Self adaptation.

My breasts weigh a lot. Not only is the tissue very dense, making them pert and perky despite their size, but, it makes it harder to find lumps once you breach the FF quadrant. I left that a long time ago. I shared with her today my methods for a successful self examination. I have to adapt to the needs of my body and this means I may lay on my side, I may hang upside down, but, I always make certain to feel not just my breasts in a circular and consistent fashion, but my armpits and down my sides a bit.

I am lucky that I have had strong women in my life. I have an aunt who has had stage four Breast Cancer for longer than I have been alive. This woman has fought, and fought and thrives. She does at times worry her family for her life, but, she has dealt with cancer with no break for over twenty five years. In my mind she is the best teacher I can have about why cancer awareness is so important. Without knowing her, I might not have decided to live during one of the bouts with suicidal thoughts that I went through as a teenager. I might not have begun to battle with myself for proper medical care.

I have a lot of diagnosis, the list grows daily, but, my isms are mine. I am a short, fat, white girl in a wheelchair. I am also blessed with very rare breasts, the sort that women have painful surgery to mirror. I have great hair, great eyes (when they see) and a brain. I am facing daily challenges with ableism, fatism, and even some fetishism. Sexism is a consistent battle. I also face the blessings of people who are better than the isms. I face the knowledge given to me by my fellow females, and now I must learn to share.

Take stock of your isms, be you male or female. Take a look at what you are given by station in life, what you have fought for, and, if you have enough to share, reach out and help someone rise above. I will post about my chances to advocate for breast health. I am even going to start getting mammograms, a need I had hoped to put off for at least ten more years, but perhaps I can come up with a way to make them less painful.

This is hardly a new idea, I am merely following in the path of others who have taught me. This is not an area I had ever expected to be asked to advocate in, but, how can I deny the request when I know that even one person may become self aware?

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