Fear of Getting Well

Is it ironic that, having worked in the healthcare world for most of my adult life, now it is starting to become my latest fear? Or perhaps there’s some sense to that. At my last routine check-up, I reported to my physician that earlier in the year, I woke one morning with a dizzy spell but it subsided before too long. Trouble was, it subsided but never completely went away. Since it did not appear to impair me physically or mentally--I just continued to “feel” it--and with the pandemic coming into play, I chose to wait until my check up in September to say anything about it. My doctor has never expressed alarm about anything while I’ve been in his care. But having noted a benign premature ventricular contraction in the prior year’s visit, he referred me to a cardiologist for a Holter monitor and echocardiogram test. Both were negative and he and I were okay with forgetting about it for the time being.

His relaxed manner started me off calmly enough. But it was not long before I started wondering what the worse could be and at one point I had a brief but clear panic attack over the thought of the possibility of a pacemaker. Now upon reflection, I’m sure that panic was presaged by obsessing over my optometrist’s glaucoma “suspicion” at an earlier appointment and more generally a miasma this year about my own suspicions of being trapped in a manipulative and/or untrustworthy healthcare system. Did the shingles vaccine cause my ongoing light-headedness? Is the optometrist trying to bilk me with unnecessary procedures and charges? Why is my primary care physician only looking at my light-headedness from a cardiovascular angle rather than neurological? Does my veterinarian really know what she’s doing by putting my dog on diuretics to mitigate the effects of a malignant tumor?

I think back to younger days when I piously shook my head thinking if my dad hadn’t been so fearful of hospitalization and engaged a cardiologist and more progressive treatment, he could have added five or more years to his life. Would past me be shaking my head at current me?

Moreover, is this general miasma just my obsessive nature getting worse with age? I’ve long worried that it would, thinking back to my days in the pharmacy when men who looked to normally be gruff old codgers would come drop off their prescriptions shaking like a leaf, their doctor visit making them so nervous. Or has the pandemic shaken me? The opportunity to converse intimately or socially with friends--not that was ever a big practice with me--has worsened with the pandemic and I have no outside feedback to assuage me. I’m sure it’s a combination of both. But regardless, the positive and enlightening things that may be developing in me during this unusual year could be undermined by increased fearfulness and obsessing.

Go With the Flow?

Maybe one of the things that will come from this unusual year will be to come up with a formula, or if/then/else flowchart, that I can fall back on and learn to trust.

In the case of the optometry worries, how would such a decision branching chart go?

The first and foremost question for an obsessive thought flowchart might be, how consequential is the issue? Consequential could be a matter of both risk to physical and emotional wellbeing.

Since that could include things from life or death situations to mere simple pleasures let’s look at both physical and emotional risks separately--at least, the best we can. But first lay out some basic facts about the issue. The optometry example:

Glaucoma is supposedly a major cause of blindness. This sounds bad in itself, but from a risk management perspective, less than 2% of the population is affected by it and of those, a smaller number go blind. In assessing my own risk tolerance, I factor in that I do not have high blood pressure issues nor do I take corticosteroids and age is <70. The expense and discomfort of daily eye drops may be a bit higher for me since my eyes tend to be somewhat sensitive (I have rarely considered contact lenses for those reasons. Of course glasses are a viable alternative).

Physical risk level: high/low

I would select low at the present time and could reassess later (when it’s no longer just a “suspicion”).

Emotional risk: yes/no

In my case, daily drops in my eyes for the rest of my life would be very inconvenient. But if I reassessed later, I’m sure I could get used to them if there was no alternative. Still, a second opinion, for example switching to a different optometrist and comparing.

For me, though, I need to remember that my obsessive thinking has, I believe, a neurotic element to it. So a couple more questions...

Do I think a personal neurosis involved: yes/no

If yes next question is Result of ignoring the neurotically caused feeling: good/bad

If ignoring an uncomfortable--but known irrational--feeling would lead to a greater good and would be resolved in a reasonably short time frame it would probably be a good choice. If ignoring the feeling is too difficult and would lead to greater fear, anxiety and depression, perhaps delaying action or thinking up another plan of avoidance would be a better option. This will be the most challenging branch, however.

I’ll leave it at that for now. I’m already getting a calming effect with the eye exam. Need to see if I can plug and play it to other obsessive thinking events. Pretty sure I won’t have to wait long.

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