Blog
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Navigating the Unexpected: To clear for surgery, or not.
Medical appointments can be a mixed bag—sometimes they offer reassurance and clarity, while other times they can throw a curveball that sends us back into a whirlwind of tests and additional visits. My specialist appointment today was meant to be a straightforward visit. Get my bloods done beforehand, an EKG, a check in with my doctor and a green light from him for my upcoming surgery.
Little did I know that the day would unfold differently.
I arrived at the clinic, feeling a mix of hope and fatigue. After months filled with various medical challenges, I was ready for something simple—just a quick test and a chat with my doctor. I was in and out of hospitals for three months earlier this year, grappling with everything from a Complex migraine, infection in my brain and being treated for a Thyroid Storm to the resulting PTSD from my treatment by staff at the hospital.
I had full month of appointments (all medical this month) and I was finally down to the last few. Now, August and September appointments are being booked in and to be honest, it’s doing my head in.
Today it seemed like just more steps stood between me and my long-awaited surgery.
As I settled into the waiting room, I was struck by the silence. I was the only person on the floor wearing a mask besides the person who did my EKG (a massive thank you to him for wearing one and actually wearing it over his mouth and nose).
It was a stark reminder of the ongoing health concerns lingering in the air and the life of a person who is immunocompromised. When my name was called, I walked into the consultation room, a familiar yet slightly sterile environment, and prepared to share the latest chapter in my health saga.
Medical appointments can be a mixed bag—sometimes they offer reassurance and clarity, while other times they can throw a curveball that sends us back into a whirlwind of tests and additional visits. My specialist appointment today was meant to be a straightforward visit. Get my bloods done beforehand, an EKG, a check in with my doctor and a green light from him for my upcoming surgery.
Little did I know that the day would unfold differently.
I arrived at the clinic, feeling a mix of hope and fatigue. After months filled with various medical challenges, I was ready for something simple—just a quick test and a chat with my doctor. I was in and out of hospitals for three months earlier this year, grappling with everything from a Complex migraine, infection in my brain and being treated for a Thyroid Storm to the resulting PTSD from my treatment by staff at the hospital.
I had full month of appointments (all medical this month) and I was finally down to the last few. Now, August and September appointments are being booked in and to be honest, it’s doing my head in.
Today it seemed like just more steps stood between me and my long-awaited surgery.
As I settled into the waiting room, I was struck by the silence. I was the only person on the floor wearing a mask besides the person who did my EKG (a massive thank you to him for wearing one and actually wearing it over his mouth and nose).
It was a stark reminder of the ongoing health concerns lingering in the air and the life of a person who is immunocompromised. When my name was called, I walked into the consultation room, a familiar yet slightly sterile environment, and prepared to share the latest chapter in my health saga.
Ready to get clearance and move on
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Still waiting
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I began detailing all that had transpired since we last spoke—hospital visits, treatment adjustments, my upcoming surgery and my ongoing mental health struggle. I was seeking understanding and support, truly believing that today I would leave with reassurance and clearance for surgery.
As the conversation progressed, I sensed a shift in the conversation. My doctor reviewed my chart, he asked questions, he began to talk about what medications will need to be stopped for surgery.
He then said that I need an ultrasound and to wear a 24 hour Holter monitor and then come back in three weeks and hopefully get the clearance then...
Excuse me?
The weight of his statement crashed over me as I tried to hold onto the expectations I had come in with. Suddenly, the day that was meant to be straightforward had morphed into something complicated and frustrating.
I couldn’t help but feel exasperated. Really? Two more appointments and a return trip for the Holter monitor drop off? I had already dedicated so much time and energy to my health journey, alot of it just this month, and now I felt like I was trudging through quicksand, barely making any headway.
It seems that for every appointment I have leading up to surgery, they add at least two more.
The exhaustion washed over me like a tidal wave. I had been juggling appointments, procedures, and tests like a performer in a circus, constantly on the move but feeling nowhere close to my destination. I was overwhelmed, anxious, and simply yearning for a sense of normalcy.
As the conversation progressed, I sensed a shift in the conversation. My doctor reviewed my chart, he asked questions, he began to talk about what medications will need to be stopped for surgery.
He then said that I need an ultrasound and to wear a 24 hour Holter monitor and then come back in three weeks and hopefully get the clearance then...
Excuse me?
The weight of his statement crashed over me as I tried to hold onto the expectations I had come in with. Suddenly, the day that was meant to be straightforward had morphed into something complicated and frustrating.
I couldn’t help but feel exasperated. Really? Two more appointments and a return trip for the Holter monitor drop off? I had already dedicated so much time and energy to my health journey, alot of it just this month, and now I felt like I was trudging through quicksand, barely making any headway.
It seems that for every appointment I have leading up to surgery, they add at least two more.
The exhaustion washed over me like a tidal wave. I had been juggling appointments, procedures, and tests like a performer in a circus, constantly on the move but feeling nowhere close to my destination. I was overwhelmed, anxious, and simply yearning for a sense of normalcy.
Still waiting...
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Tight lipped, no clearance face -- argg!
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In that moment, I realized that the journey through healthcare is rarely linear. Each appointment, each test, presents its own set of challenges and revelations. Though I had hoped for a simple clearance and a swift path to surgery, the reality was that I would need to face more hurdles before I could reach my goal.
Frustrated, angry and over it, I called a taxi and so began the remainder of my day.
As I left the clinic, I couldn’t shake the feeling of disappointment. I reminded myself that healthcare is a process, and setbacks, however frustrating, are often a necessary part of the journey. While I may not have received the resolution I was hoping for today, I’m determined to tackle the next steps with resilience. After all, every appointment, no matter how challenging, brings me one step closer to my health goals.
In a world that often feels chaotic, I hold onto the belief that persistence and self-advocacy are my allies. My body has fought hard, and so will I, even amidst the uncertainties that lie ahead.
Frustrated, angry and over it, I called a taxi and so began the remainder of my day.
As I left the clinic, I couldn’t shake the feeling of disappointment. I reminded myself that healthcare is a process, and setbacks, however frustrating, are often a necessary part of the journey. While I may not have received the resolution I was hoping for today, I’m determined to tackle the next steps with resilience. After all, every appointment, no matter how challenging, brings me one step closer to my health goals.
In a world that often feels chaotic, I hold onto the belief that persistence and self-advocacy are my allies. My body has fought hard, and so will I, even amidst the uncertainties that lie ahead.
Whoops
And just like that, I come home, write this blog post, and my mobile phone rings.
Can you guess?
It’s the booking nurse on the other end. The news I’ve been waiting for has finally arrived—I have a surgery date!
After what has felt like an eternity of waiting, tests, tears and consultations, I can now see a glimmer of light at the end of the tunnel.
This year has been exceptionally hard, filled with uncertainty and a health journey that has challenged me in ways I never imagined. From being so unwell and in and out of hospital for three months, to countless doctor visits to endless tests, I’ve faced moments of apprehension and frustration. But finally, with the scheduled date for surgery, all my energy and focus will shift to my admission, the procedure itself, and the all-important recovery that will follow.
Just a week ago, during my last appointment, my endocrinologist cheerfully said, “See you on the other side.” At that moment, it struck me how real and transformative this journey is about to become. Those six words carry a weight of hope and determination. They signify not just the completion of a medical procedure but a pivotal moment in my life—one where I can start anew, shedding a few of the layers of discomfort and distress that have cloaked me for too long.
Now, before I can fully lean into this next chapter, there’s one more hurdle to clear: getting the necessary clearance (again!). It is attempt number two and it feels like one of the final check-points in this arduous journey. I know that the dedicated healthcare professionals who have been by my side will ensure I’m ready for surgery. I’m optimistic that this final piece will fall into place and everything is on track.
In many ways, this process has allowed me to reevaluate what it means to care for myself. I’ve learned the value of listening to my body, of advocating for the medical attention I deserve, and of surrounding myself with supportive loved ones. It has been a reminder that it’s okay to pause, to seek help, to embrace moments of vulnerability and open your mouth and advocate for yourself and those around you. It can be hard in setting where you feel ignored, unheard and pressured, but it is so much better for you, if you can manage.
Planning for surgery means preparing mentally, physically, and emotionally. I anticipate becoming a bit of a recluse for a time, focusing on rest and rehabilitation, nurturing my body as it heals. I plan to journal my experiences via this blog, share the ups and downs, and perhaps inspire others who are on a similar journey. I want anyone reading this to know that it’s normal to feel anxious, uncertain, or even hopeful. Every step—each call from the specialists and medical professionals, every appointment, every ‘see you on the other side’—is part of a larger narrative.
So, as I move forward, I am filled with a bittersweet sense of excitement tempered with caution and to be honest? Pure terror as my PTSD kicks into overdrive and I dig deep to find my calm.
I enter this season of my life with hope and gratitude. I’m committed to taking it one day at a time, allowing myself grace in the moments of struggle and celebrating every small victory along the way.
Here begins a new chapter in my health journey, where I will embrace the challenges ahead and, ultimately, celebrate what lies on the other side of surgery. The countdown begins, and soon, this current chapter filled with uncertainty will transition into one of recovery and renewal. Thank you for following along with me as I embark on this new and hopeful adventure—stay tuned and if you know of someone who is on a similar journey and could use some support, please share my website and blog with them.
Let's do this together and support each other, it is the only way to get through sometimes.
x Tab
Can you guess?
It’s the booking nurse on the other end. The news I’ve been waiting for has finally arrived—I have a surgery date!
After what has felt like an eternity of waiting, tests, tears and consultations, I can now see a glimmer of light at the end of the tunnel.
This year has been exceptionally hard, filled with uncertainty and a health journey that has challenged me in ways I never imagined. From being so unwell and in and out of hospital for three months, to countless doctor visits to endless tests, I’ve faced moments of apprehension and frustration. But finally, with the scheduled date for surgery, all my energy and focus will shift to my admission, the procedure itself, and the all-important recovery that will follow.
Just a week ago, during my last appointment, my endocrinologist cheerfully said, “See you on the other side.” At that moment, it struck me how real and transformative this journey is about to become. Those six words carry a weight of hope and determination. They signify not just the completion of a medical procedure but a pivotal moment in my life—one where I can start anew, shedding a few of the layers of discomfort and distress that have cloaked me for too long.
Now, before I can fully lean into this next chapter, there’s one more hurdle to clear: getting the necessary clearance (again!). It is attempt number two and it feels like one of the final check-points in this arduous journey. I know that the dedicated healthcare professionals who have been by my side will ensure I’m ready for surgery. I’m optimistic that this final piece will fall into place and everything is on track.
In many ways, this process has allowed me to reevaluate what it means to care for myself. I’ve learned the value of listening to my body, of advocating for the medical attention I deserve, and of surrounding myself with supportive loved ones. It has been a reminder that it’s okay to pause, to seek help, to embrace moments of vulnerability and open your mouth and advocate for yourself and those around you. It can be hard in setting where you feel ignored, unheard and pressured, but it is so much better for you, if you can manage.
Planning for surgery means preparing mentally, physically, and emotionally. I anticipate becoming a bit of a recluse for a time, focusing on rest and rehabilitation, nurturing my body as it heals. I plan to journal my experiences via this blog, share the ups and downs, and perhaps inspire others who are on a similar journey. I want anyone reading this to know that it’s normal to feel anxious, uncertain, or even hopeful. Every step—each call from the specialists and medical professionals, every appointment, every ‘see you on the other side’—is part of a larger narrative.
So, as I move forward, I am filled with a bittersweet sense of excitement tempered with caution and to be honest? Pure terror as my PTSD kicks into overdrive and I dig deep to find my calm.
I enter this season of my life with hope and gratitude. I’m committed to taking it one day at a time, allowing myself grace in the moments of struggle and celebrating every small victory along the way.
Here begins a new chapter in my health journey, where I will embrace the challenges ahead and, ultimately, celebrate what lies on the other side of surgery. The countdown begins, and soon, this current chapter filled with uncertainty will transition into one of recovery and renewal. Thank you for following along with me as I embark on this new and hopeful adventure—stay tuned and if you know of someone who is on a similar journey and could use some support, please share my website and blog with them.
Let's do this together and support each other, it is the only way to get through sometimes.
x Tab
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copied or used without the express and written permission of Tabitha J Page.
Sharing pages straight from the website is welcomed however/please give credit if sharing and use the direct browser link.
copied or used without the express and written permission of Tabitha J Page.
Sharing pages straight from the website is welcomed however/please give credit if sharing and use the direct browser link.
