I have to remind myself that Oliver is cute, because he woke me up every 30 minutes starting at 2:38 last night. Lack of sleep makes the pain worse, and the pain is bad today. It’s partly the changing weather and partly not.
I think my anxiety is bubbling up because I got a text reminder of the CT and MRI appointments happening next month. Although I hadn’t been worried about them (and I count that fact a win because scanxiety is real) it’s a natural reaction for me to get an appointment reminder and then watch my body physically flip the fuck out.
So this morning I am reminding myself that there is room for this anxiety and fear. That it’s quite normal to be scared. And what’s actually abnormal is to suppress those feelings. Which, let’s be honest, is how I’ve been dealing with things for the past decade.
I knew it was bad when I was happy to have a brain tumor diagnosis, but I didn’t understand then how I got that way or if my aversion could be reversed.
I’ve since learned the resistance to that reality is what creates the added physical tension in my muscles. I’m fighting myself when I suppress feelings I don’t want to have, and it’s generating extra pain I don’t need.
One thing that brings me back to reality is when people care for me. And I don’t mean grand gestures or anything. For example Dan put some black raspberry butter on an English muffin for me for breakfast this morning. That helped.
As I was eating breakfast, I began thinking about how Mom bought the jar of jam for me at that shop in Springfield last Christmas and how Dan made me a toasty warm breakfast with a mocha and two mandarins to go with the English muffins.
And as I thought about those things, my anxiety waned. It can be really hard to think comforting thoughts in the middle of an anxiety spiral, but it always helps. So I’m trying to focus on the good things right in front of me.
And when that doesn’t work I try whipping out a guided meditation from Tara Brach or listening to a chapter of Unwinding Anxiety.
Unwinding Anxiety in practice is something I do when the opportunity presents itself. There’s no cramming for this life test. I resolved the anger and anxious fear triggered by my primary doctor’s recent scolding—and in record time, because of this book.
I have a new primary doctor. I realized I had a choice, and I chose not to accept the added burden of dealing with a doctor who thought I deserved an added burden.
Like usual, I wondered for too long whether I was the problem, but in examining my other doctor-patient relationships, it became obvious that no one else was sending me paternalistic messages in my patient portal.
I had to keep reminding myself, I’m not her enemy; I’m job security. But once that truth took hold…
Once I internalized the truth instead of the fear, I was able to place a phone call to a patient advocate and get things sorted out right away.
Now I have a doctor that is physically closer, afiliated with the same hospital system as my oncologist and uses the same patient portal, AND offers me appointment waitlist options by text.
Honestly, this would be better for me even if my old primary doctor was perfect.
I spent a fair amount of time writing and revising a reply to Dr Scold that I’ve opted not to send. In my experience this kind of self-defense usually carries with it the potential for another interaction. Not really looking for that, to be honest. I prefer to set firmer boundaries.
So I’m publishing my reply here as closure and therapy without including the doctor’s real name.
Might as well get a couple of ad impressions for my trouble, right?
Also—and maybe this is pessimistic—but I think I have a better chance of improving experiences if I post a review for patients than if I explain myself to Dr. Scold. I revised my initially glowing review of her online to one that also reflects my newfound discovery.
I feel good about putting this behind me and moving past the anxiety of it all. I feel good for being able to find my way out of this fear of abandonment.
Because that’s how my lizard brain interprets these things post-2014. That unless I crack the code and conform to unspoken rules or expectations, I won’t be believed by the only people who can help.
Man, fuck that noise.
The reply:
I am not new to disability, but I am new to this level of disability.
I don’t know what information didn’t get communicated on your side, but I imagine it was significant after discovering how much was missing on my side.
Your message was the first time any of the handful of people I’d communicated with at AMG had relayed any information regarding 3 to 6 month office visits for levothyroxine. In addition to being on this medication for over 25 years without such requirements, I have limits. Ignoring them comes with physical and mental consequences.
The difference between the thyroid labs ordered by you versus those ordered by my oncologist were not communicated until your paternalistic scolding.
A couple of months ago, I waited by my phone for a telehealth appointment that never happened. I considered it a forgivable oversight then but wonder now how frequently things are missed or lost in translation and then blamed on the patient.
No one ever offered even an unexplained “no” to my refill requests. Retrospectively, it feels like I was expected to intuit what everyone else was thinking.
It was insulting to have my life reduced to a “situation.” I didn’t need favors or “leniency.” I needed feasible solutions to specific needs.
Wondering where I stand with a physician requires energy I simply don’t possess. My medical anxiety, which I work to minimize, becomes overwhelming when I have to guess what other people need.
I wish you well. I will not be returning to your office for care.
I’ve listened to Unwinding Anxiety a few times through now. I’m reluctant to praise anything too much, because I know how isolating and depressing it can be to want relief and not find it in places where others have. This Review of Unwinding Anxiety comes with a disclaimer.
Applying Brewer’s approach to my own anxiety and IBS seems to be working for me, but it might not be as healing for you. I want you to know that I see and fully acknowledge your struggle.
I’ve been stymied by that battle for what feels like an eternity, and I only drop affiliate links to make this book easier to access if you’re curious. Not because I think there’s a miracle, one-size-fits-all cure for this shit. If nothing else, reading could lead you to discover something that helps you more. That’s all I expect anyone to get from my review today.
But listen to me: if it doesn’t help like you want, it’s not your fault. It’s so important to me that you know that.
I still have anxiety, and I will always be prone to my anxious tendencies. The difference is that now I recognize it, have tools that can help me process it, and can clearly see the benefit of applying those tools.
Like I said a few days ago, I’m not moved much by woo. I prefer hard science, and Judson Brewer broke it down for me in this book. He explained his research plainly, and I found his writing clear but thorough.
Still, I’m the type who picks up on new things every time I read—it’s like when I’m rewatching a favorite movie and I notice something for the first time. I intend to give the audiobook a third listen after the initial ideas in Unwinding Anxiety have had a little more time to simmer.
Unwinding My Own Anxiety
My earliest memorable dealings with anxiety harken back to when I was about 8. I was in bed one night trying to sleep when I thought about the story of John Henry. We’d sung a song about him in music class earlier that week.
When I thought about Henry’s death and then realized my own was inevitable, I struggled to breathe. I felt sick to my stomach and hung out by the toilet for the night. It was my first panic attack, and I have only this week come to understand that’s what was happening.
Unfortunately, my best friend was sleeping over that night, and she wanted to go home. Adult me totally gets it, but little me was kind of heartbroken that my best friend didn’t want to hang out. Her mom or her grandma or someone came to pick her up. I was not just feeling anxious, I was feeling rejected.
My parents tried to console me that night, but I don’t think they understood my experience because I didn’t have words to articulate my fear. Besides, even at 8 years old, I already understood that I should probably just get a grip.
I got that same anxious feeling in my gut about Gifted & Talented class and tried to quit. But the G&T teacher was a hardass. She told me I couldn’t quit unless my parents wrote a note. I thought I’d be a disappointment to them—and I didn’t want to break their hearts—so I stayed in the program and never again brought it up.
And so it went for another 36 years.
I knew when I got stressed and anxious, my IBS would show up, but I had no clue I had developed full-blown generalized anxiety disorder until I heard Brewer define it. Then I remembered the joke I saw on Twitter about all the G&T kids being perfectionists with anxiety.
Hahahaha. Heh.
*nervously glances around room*
That plus recalling Dr. Pulmonologist recently noting the connection between IBS and anxiety caused me to have a lightbulb moment while listening to Unwinding Anxiety.
If I didn’t have a brain tumor to worry about, I might have put the pieces together sooner. After all, I have been diagnosed with anxiety because of my health.
Detailing My Anxiety Loops
Trying to get the anxiety and IBS to stop without understanding the connection was futile. My chronic illness and the physical manifestations of my GAD, were woven too tightly together.
With each new physical symptom, I’d spiral and feed the anxious habits I’d been actively suppressing for a lifetime. Every new doctor’s appointment made it all worse.
The constant internal battle over needing to know what was wrong with me but also needing to not have another expensive doctor’s appointment drain my bank account magnified my anxiety and made my IBS an even bigger problem. To the point I was noticing disordered eating in an attempt not to shit my pants. Sometimes not wanting to eat at all. When I would finally give in and eat because I knew I needed calories to stay alive, there would be even more severe consequences.
When Mom would join us for a meal, I’d stress about getting to the bathroom in time after eating. Or I’d fret about choosing the “wrong” food when ordering takeout, et voilá. I’d give the IBS something to IBS about. I’d try to identify trigger foods only to realize everything caused GI distress and be certain I was hopelessly broken. The suffering was endless.
Also? “You have cancer, we should see if this is cancer too” every few weeks might have been medically sound advice, but it was disastrous for my mental health. My doctors and I didn’t know what we didn’t know.
Pausing My Catastrophic Spirals
Garden variety anxiety had been on my radar for a while. So I tried earnestly to meditate myself to calm. The problem was that my anxiety had anxiety, as they say. Or, put another way, I was anxious I’d be anxious again. I was a hot mess.
I’m still a hot mess, if I’m honest. But Unwinding Anxiety has helped me understand what triggers my anxiety loops, why just mapping the loops helps, and how a subtle shift in how I meditate gets me to recognize what’s happening and press pause on the unraveling.
My brain has always been trying to help, since I was a kid, but I ended up very literally addicted to worry.
Evidence My Anxiety Was Exacerbating My IBS
Grasping for answers made me feel worse. Nothing is clearer to me now. Brewer encourages the anxious who try his approach to not just scrutinize his evidence, but look for their own.
I’m wary of things helping for a short time and ceasing to be therapeutic, BUT
My guts aren’t as inflamed. Which means my lungs have more room to expand and my breathing isn’t as shallow as it was just last week.
I can also hug both of my knees to my chest without any pain in my abdomen—something that inflammation and excruciating pain had made impossible for the last couple of years.
I am still eating “bad” foods, but my IBS-D episodes are farther between and less severe. I haven’t had an IBS-C bout since my first listen. Though it’s too early to say anything about IBS-C with certainty as that has always been an intermittent issue.
That level of improvement with my IBS coupled with my vastly improved mental well-being—in such a short time—is enough for me to keep on keeping on and write this long-ass post.
I spent all day yesterday listening to the UnwindingAnxiety audiobook by Judson Brewer. It had been on my radar for a while after he was a guest on Tara Brach’s podcast, but, you know, money. I was getting desperate about my mental health though.
Anyway, Unwinding Anxiety was very helpful for me, because there’s so much woo out there when it comes to learning about mindfulness and meditation. Brewer is an MD and PhD (like the neurosurgeon who cut my head open in 2017) and there was so much science in his approach, I was darn near giddy.
I know some people prefer a more spiritual approach to these things, but that is not me. I sometimes filter through the spiritual silt for the nuggets, but when I don’t have to spend energy on that? Praise cheezus.
Let’s just say it was worth every penny of the $13 it cost me to get that book. Bonus points that I can listen from bed.
By the way, I made this wallpaper for my phone’s lock screen after listening. Feel free to save it to your phone if you think it could help. I’m much less inclined to be on social media these days, but I do still look at my screen more frequently than I’d like. Maybe this will help me create space, as they say.
Brewer is from Indianapolis, experienced IBS, and mentioned how well Western medicine handled brain tumors in chapter 20. Those random connections in some way comforted my anxious mind.
Speaking of anxiety (Because I never do that. Ha!) I am now pretty sure—after reading Brewer’s book—that what I have is generalized anxiety disorder. However, seeking an official diagnosis in a clinical setting is the last thing I need at the moment.
Just learning how my anxious brain works is progress. I think working at identifying my anxiety loops and recognizing when it’s time to place the proverbial sticks in their spokes will get me to a place where I can make a better decision about whether seeing a psychiatrist is warranted.
I’m not opposed to the idea. But money and other triggers are always a concern.
