Reflections while they're squishing my boobs

 

I had a mammogram today. And it occurred to me while my boobs were getting squished that I could have cancer. And that got me thinking. What would I do if I had cancer? If I only had today to live, what would be my final thoughts, my biggest regrets and how would I spend my final moments.

If I truly needed to depart tomorrow, would I be looking for validation in a piece of paper that tells no one in particular that I can do some ultrasound guided procedure or that I am a good leader? And why do I torture myself over things that do not come natural to me and may not necessarily mean anything in the great scheme of things?

HEIDI, have you learnt nothing? Over and over again repeating the same lesson. And over and over again slow on the uptake.

If I were destined to die today, I would spend the day quietly telling my children how much I love them and how much they mean to me. I would ensure they knew where to find everything I have written and I’d probably regret the most not having written my book or published something.

Do I want the extra stress of being a boss?

Do I want the extra responsibility? To be honest, no.

I’d like the security of a contract, and the illusion that I have control over things that happen in my life. I don’t.

I have control over what I do today, that’s all. I get the most satisfaction out of my work when I have the energy to be cheerful and spend time updating my knowledge. Not because it’s working towards a new qualification, but because I want to be the best doctor I can be.

I get satisfaction out of making teddy bears and giving them to kids at work, or relating to someone at a deeper level, or challenging their stereotypical view of a doctor. I like making a diagnosis, puzzling a case out with a colleague, making a worthwhile contribution that isn’t perfect or grand, or necessarily recognized. Because I am not a grand shit sort of person at the end of the day. I may not win awards, or be the valedictorian, or the one who makes a speech. I am the quiet achiever that hardly anyone notices until my hair isn’t purple or I am not cheerful and smiling.

I don’t have the ability to memorize things easily, not do I have outstandingly extensive knowledge in medicine because I have spent my time on other things that are more valuable to me. My kids, my pets, writing, exercise, my friends. And if I were to ask enough people what they thought, I would get enough opinions to make my head spin. Opinions that may not be what’s true or real for me.

So if I need to be a casual contractor for the rest of my career? So what? I get to have holidays when I want them, take time off whenever I want, and do other things like locuming. There will always be work for me to do. And if I get sick? I’ll live on less. I don’t have extravagant needs, my animals do!  And they won’t be here forever.

And then I can just do whatever I feel like doing. And that’s gotta be enough. It is enough. I am enough.

The day will come when I will get cancer or hit by a bus or have a stroke, and none of it will matter. None of it except what was true for me. And that may not be what my neighbor thinks is right, or true. But it is for me.