Avoiding the Darkness

Why do we care so much about what others think? I tell my children, “Run your own race,” a quote from one of our favorite shows, Bluey. It’s a way to remind them not to compare themselves to others, or worry about what others think. Do I follow this advice? Of course not. As a parent, my job is to make sure there’s at least one element of hypocrisy in my teachings with my children, and I guess this is mine.

Ever since the decision was made to go forth with the surgery, I’ve worried about what others have thought. “Do they think I’m overreacting?” The tiny voice in my head says. “Do they think you’re just doing it for attention?” The nagging voice asks. I know, after all of the doctors’ appointments, and all of the stats they’ve shown me, that this is not an overreaction. This is the proper course for me to take based on my odds. Yet, something deep inside of me worries that others might think it is. Maybe, it stems from some people saying that I need to “consider all options” before I go forward with the plan; even though this possibility is something that’s been a part of my life for at least three years.

Another Appointment

Last week, I had my annual appointment with my cardiologist (see: pre-eclampsia destroying blood pressure). During this appointment, we ended up discussing overall health. She was pleased with my work to be healthy, and she told me that based on everything, I am making the right choice to have the bilateral mastectomy.

Her support adds another to the list of medical professionals who have told me that it’s the right thing to do. So, that brings the list to:

• My OBGYN
• Breast Surgeon
• Plastic Surgeon
• OBGYN Nurses
• Radiologist
• Cardiologist
• Cardiologist Nurse
• High-Risk Department
• Therapists (I had two because my regular went out on maternity leave)
• Does a personal trainer count? Because she’s in there too.

I feel like I’m missing someone. Oh well. Either way, the list is growing and no medical professionals have said it’s a bad idea. It’s all been, “With those stats, you’re making a wise decision.” And I know they’re right, but that tiny voice just nags at me. I’m sure this is some sort of stupid holdover from my childhood, and I’m sure my therapist would love to help me unpack it. But that’s work, and isn’t it just better to live with it than do work? What? It’s not? Fine. I’ll bring it up at the next session.

Retrain the Ol’ Brain

Eventually, I know I’ll get to a place where I can say, “Who cares what they think? You’re going to live a better life.” And maybe, I’ll start saying that any time those negative thoughts come in, and hopefully that will form new neural pathways and I’ll start to believe it.

In the meantime, I’m making the right choice, and fuck anyone who thinks differently.