How ironic that I’ve been too stressed out to write and when I do finally find my voice the internet is out. Typical. Which is why I am writing in word and hoping the internet comes back up soon.
Some of you may know that I have been struggling for the last 3 years to find a job that is the right fit for me. It hasn’t been easy; I’ve tried many things, both within my career field and outside of it and failed. I’ve failed, but I’ve never given up.
I’ve been undergoing a rigorous interview process for the last month, for a job that I feel could be the perfect fit for me. After several extensive interviews I finally received a formal offer. They wanted me, yay!!!!
I start next week and am extremely excited about this position. I will be working as a caregiver for mentally challenged senior citizens. Caring for seniors is where I started my career and what I love the most. After 35 years in the field I was burned out and had all but given up on finding a position that would work for me when this came along.
I had just one barrier left between me and this place that feels so right. That thing would seem, for most, to be a relatively easy thing. The dreaded physical. It’s just a routine thing, nothing to worry or stress about.
This is such a serious trigger for me. Too many bad memories, of a young girl, facing awful doctors, all alone in my past, to even explain. Bad enough, that once I found the right doctor for me, I stayed with him for most of my adult life, until he retired. When he did retire, his daughter took over his practice. She was so much like her father in the way she practiced, I stayed with her.
I’ve had to undergo other work physicals in my career; they have always been extremely unpleasant. I even had one that I went toe to toe with about the fact that a work physical did NOT include a gynecological exam. As if I would let that creepy old man touch me, much less do that to me. I won that one, but not without a bit of stress thinking my job hung in the balance.
I had my work physical today. I was so stressed about it, that I did not sleep more than 2 hours last night. It was a 5 minute drive from my home, but I left 20 minutes early, just in case something happened. I’m not sure what I thought would happen, but I was very nervous about the whole thing.
By the time I arrived, over tired, due to only getting 2 hours of sleep, I was in a full blown panic attack. My heart was racing and felt like it was going to beat its way out of my chest. My hands were shaking so badly I almost couldn’t complete the required forms. I started to flush and was so warm I thought it would be a miracle if I didn’t pass out, or vomit, my stomach was definitely in an uproar.
The nurse was so nice, but was immediately concerned about my heart rate and blood pressure. Normally those are not an issue for me, but today they were. They were both abnormally high. She was very kind and considerate and questioned me about what was going on. I admitted my anxiety with the situation and even shared some of why it was so anxiety provoking for me. She reassured me as best she could, but I still couldn’t seem to get myself under control. I’m ashamed to say, I was reduced to tears at that point. Darn hormones!
Too my surprise I wasn’t actually seeing a doctor, a nurse practitioner would be completing my physical. He was a lovely, kind, older gentleman. He too was concerned about my reaction to something so routine. I have no idea why, but I confided many things to him that I’ve never even told my own physician. He listened and gently advised. He guided me through what should have been such an easy thing, yet something I found so extremely difficult.
He reminded me of something so profoundly important. He told me that no one on their death bed has wished they had worried more. He told me it was time to let the past go. He told me I’m still a young woman and I have a lot left to offer. He was genuinely concerned about how high my blood pressure was. He was so concerned that he sat with me for several minutes, he told me to close my eyes and take a deep breath. He told me to imagine meeting my grandbaby and what I would say to her when I finally met her.
It worked, my heart rate had slowed, my blood pressure had returned to normal. I passed my physical and will be starting a job I know I am going to love and find totally fulfilling, without detracting from my personal life.
I hope someday that I can make a difference in someone’s life the way he did for me today. He is truly a great caregiver. That’s something I aspire to be.
The above illustrates one of those times that sub or not, Musicman couldn’t really help me. I know he would have, had there been anything he could have done, but there just wasn’t. This was one of those times, I had to reach deep, find my strength and push through it on my own.
Of course, that doesn’t mean there’s not something he could do to comfort me after the fact. There definitely is. I think we may be due for a conversation later tonight.