Tag Archives: doctor

JAMIE’S BLOG – YEAR 9 – DAY 89 :: trust the ones you are with

1 Apr


I started out my day with a routine blood draw. It’s never fun, it’s not like I look forward to it, but I have become a pro at getting through it. Pull up my sleeve, pump my fist, wait for the poke. “Tiny poke” they always say.

Today was just a little draw, one tiny vial for my thyroid check-in. While I am a pro at sitting in the chair waiting for the nurse to whip out a needle, today, the nurse on the other side of the equation was new. In fact, she was an intern.

“You don’t mind if Amy takes care of you today, do you?” the seasoned nurse asked and gave me a look that said, you better say yes.

“Of course not,” I nodded and felt a shiver go down my spine. “Just don’t make me cry” I begged. They all laughed. Then the needles came out.

Amy was perfectly lovely. I was rooting for her as I sat in the chair and she swabbed my arm. I sweet-talked my veins and asked them to pop up for her just so it would be easy… on all of us. I couldn’t help but think about how in this year of TRUST I had placed myself in a precarious position to trust an intern.

Amy was good though. I was calm. But my veins were hiding. They didn’t want to come out to play. Finally, one did and I waited for it to all be over without looking, of course, if there is one thing I have learned, it is that watching makes it worse. 

Then, Amy started to get nervous, she called the seasoned nurse over for help. My vein seized up and I could feel the needle digging in poking back and forth as they tried to fill the vial.  Finally, it was over and I let out a big sigh. 

I smiled at Amy and told her she did a good job. I have no idea if I was her first patient but I do know this:  We are all learning together. 

Sometimes, we have to trust the ones we are with. 

Trust me!
More tomorrow.



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2014 BLOG – DAY 58 :: lean in or opt out?

27 Feb

So there are days and then there are days. And, today, well has been one of those days.

My annual OB appointment.

I was actually delighted to go to the doctor today. Just approaching the women’s center made me feel all warm and fuzzy inside. It was beautiful. Like a spa. All tranquil with waterfalls and pretty landscaping. Ahhhhhh.

I made a pact with myself that this would be the start of a whole new experience with me and doctors and appointments since my track record hasn’t been so good.

I instantly loved my new doctor. She seemed to be close to my age. She was fun to talk to. She gave me a list of the best restaurants in town. I almost asked her on the spot if she wanted to be friends. Since I can use some new friends in this new town that we live in. But that seemed a little unprofessional, or at least a little too forward as I sat with my feet in stirrups stripped down to my skivvies.

Then, she dropped the bomb. As she did the annual breast exam she found a lump.

“What???” I shrieked. It felt like a cruel joke.

“Don’t panic.” She said. “No panicking. I can move it around. That’s a good sign. I’m not concerned.” She talked me off the pretty, pretty walls of the exam room.

Right. Breathe. No panicking. I’m not panicking. Wait. I am panicking. My thighs started sweating. My head started spinning. I didn’t even feel the pelvic exam. Because I was panicking.

Because this was supposed to be my new start. My GOOD appointment.

Since then, the mamo has been scheduled. My heart rate has done somersaults. I have calmed down and now I wait.

It’s a funny thing, this living in a woman’s body. The hormones. The cycles. The thyroids. The breasts. Why can’t they all just get along?

And then I remembered my promise of peak performance. And I remind myself that this is what I’m good at: staying the course, perseverance, surviving, moving through, day by day.

As I sit here tonight, I think of the latest woman power mantra of “Lean In” and I realize that all I want to do is “Opt Out.” I want to just wish this away. I want it to quietly retreat, disappear and disintegrate. I want to opt out of the panic, the worry, the stress.

So I vow not to panic. It’s useless anyway.
Besides, the doctor isn’t worried.

I toyed with not even writing about this, because hey, that would be one way to opt out. But then I had an epiphany. Or, at least a slap across the breast sort of reminder.

I am not the only one. This is bigger than me and my two boobies. It’s something we all get to share, in the this thing called womanhood.

As I reflect tonight, my only regret is this:
I should have asked her to be my friend.

I’m guessing I will have another opportunity.
Until then, no panicking.
Doctors orders.

More tomorrow.
Lovemore {fearless}

{how was your day?}

BLOG – GIFT DAY 217 :: an apple a day keeps the doctor…

6 Aug
Another day, another doctor.Yesterday, I met my newest doctor. Add one more to Team Thyroid! 
As I sat in the endocrinologist’s waiting room I had a pep talk with myself.
Or rather, the anti-pep talk.
 “Don’t make any jokes. Please don’t make any jokes. No jokes today, okay?” I practically pleaded with my internal-coping-mechanism-comedian-self who scoffed back at me.
“Yeah, right, HA!”As the nurse checked me in to her little lair and took my height (good news, I have not shrunk, still over 5′ 10”) and weight (148.5 but who’s counting?) and blood pressure (122 over 80), I spied her name tag.JAIMEE

“That’s how I always wanted to spell my name!” I exclaimed with glee.

“Really?” She beamed. “I’ve never met anyone who spells their name like this.”

“Exactly,” I smiled back. Five minutes in to the appointment and not a joke uttered.

When my doctor arrived on the scene my nerves must have receded. Maybe it was the book I read while sitting in the waiting room (Natures Secret Messages: Hidden in Plain Sight) or maybe it was just the end of the day and we were all exhausted. Regardless, not a joke was left in me and I remained calm, almost human.

“So tell me the background of all this,” he looked over my charts.
My mind sputtered… how do I shorten “all this” (see my hands waving in the air drawing a huge circle around my life) into just the primary key points…. hum? I must have looked lost because then he continued.
“How did you find the lump?”
“I didn’t. My friend pointed it out to me over lunch back in February.”
And from there I told the tale of Jamie (who doesn’t spell her name Jaimee) and how she discovered the lump in said throat, tried to get a doctor’s appointment and 6 months later, 5 specialists removed, scheduled a thyroidectomy for Aug 22.(Amazingly succinct and without any jokes I might add!)”Humm…” My new doctor looked perplexed. “It took you that long to see a doctor in Boston (hands drawing big circle in the air as if scooping up the entire Boston metro region).

“I know, weird, right?” I nodded as someone finally validated my struggle. I officially liked this new doctor.

He then said the most amazing words to me. “I’m taking thyroid cancer off your record.”

“Really?” I cocked my head to the side and leaned forward.

“We don’t know what it is yet. First, you need to have surgery and we need to get the path results back.  There is only a 50% chance this is malignant.”

“Oh…” I hesitated. 50/50 odds. Sounds… well, half good?

“Those are high numbers.” He continued making my nerves calm down even more, I might have been numb actually.

And then we made a plan.

There are two paths to take, one involves removing the thyroid getting all good news and everything is in the clear.  The other involves everything above but with not-so-good-news and a little radioactive therapy.

If all goes well we can start trying to have a family immediately (within reason) after the surgery. If Plan B goes into action we have to wait a year, which honestly breaks my heart.

I am 39. That’s a stat that I can’t change. I cannot diet or carb load to move that number up or down the scale. It is truth.

But, I am hopeful.
Hey, the odds are 50/50.

And I have faith.
Because even though it doesn’t always feel like it, that’s a big number.

And I have a great team in place.
I choose to move through this with love and faith and hope.

In fact, the surgery in Portland has been officially renamed. It is now dubbed:  Party In Portland.

Care to join us?  We will be painting at the Rogue Distillery Aug 21st the night before. Grab your seat and drink and come on down!

No joke.

More tomorrow.
Lovemore {fearless}
P.S. The CARD CRUSADE continues! And it is all made possible by Green Ink Gallery. Check out their beautiful fine art cards!
P.P.S.  Today’s card goes out to someone who is celebrating a birthday this month… that’s your hint!
{how can you rely on faith today?}

GIFT DAY 094 30-day gratitude challenge: day 18 – lean in to courage

4 Apr

Day 18 over here….of the 30-Day Gratitude Challenge.

What are you grateful for today?

My new hobby is tracking my pH balance. Yesterday I was dark yellow. Today I am closer to green. Green is good! The pH has gone up past 7.0 according to my pH sticks which is more alkaline. And that’s good — the lemons in my water must be doing their job.

ph balance, jamie eslinger, thepromisedaily.com

Lovemore Fearless!
That’s my mantra. And today, well… I cried my eyes out with a lot of fear and then love and then fear and then some more love.

I showed up for my thyroid ultrasound early, after mustering up all the courage my bright smile could handle.

(Did I tell you I was once voted Most Likely To Be Happy In A Nuclear Holocaust? True story. I was in college. And, today, I felt so very not myself.)

While laying on the radiology table I sent consistent messages of love and joy to every fiber of my body. I joked around with the radiologist. We plotted a plan for the hospital to offer foot massages and salt scrubs…. and then…

I sat in the nurse’s chair to have my blood drawn. As soon as she pulled out the fist full of viles my stomach turned.

There were more than ten plastic viles sitting on the table below. Before the needle even appeared my eyes began watering.

“Are you okay?” The nurse asked me.
“I might pass out,” I tried to joke but I couldn’t stop the tears.
“Do you want to lay down?” She asked.
“It’s not physical,” I tried to explain. “It’s emotional.”

The procedure began. The needle poked. The nurse stopped.

“Are you holding your breath?” she asked me.
“Maybe?” I answered, not sure if I was still breathing.
“Don’t hold your breath, or you will pass out.” She smiled.

I sat there with streams running down my face, wondering, “Why am I crying.”
And that’s when the answer hit me. “I’m scared.”

That’s the funky, funny, not so ironic thing about f*Ing fear. It usually sneaks up from behind, catches you off-guard when you least expect it. In public no less. With a needle jammed up your arm and ten plastic viles being filled red.

So what did I do?
I let the tears fall. Facing my fear, in living color, crying out loud, on the spot.

And I prefer to call it courage.

So, today I am grateful for:

1) Making lemons into pH lemonade
2) Tears
3) Courage

What are you grateful for?

More tomorrow.
Lovemore (fearless),

{Your turn! Share what you’re grateful for in the comments section below. Courage.}

GIFT DAY 092 a funny thing happened on the way to the doctor’s office {30-day gratitude challenge: day 16}

2 Apr

Day 16 of the 30-Day Gratitude Challenge over here.

Today I am grateful for:

1) Finally seeing a doctor
2) Finally seeing a doctor
3) Finally seeing a doctor

I have spent the last month trying to get a doctor’s appointment.

You see, I have swelling in my throat. At first I thought I had a cold. But when the swelling didn’t go away, I freaked out. Big time.

My doctor’s office offered me an appointment in June.

Then I called back to demand an appointment SOONER and they put me on hold.

On hold.

Finally the switchboard clicked back over, and told me they would call me back after 4:45pm to schedule an appointment.

You can guess how that ended. They never called back. On a Friday no less.


In lieu of medical care I started acupuncture. My acupuncturist tipped me off to a local doctor and voila! I got an appointment for today.

This morning, when I entered the totally beautiful and zen doctor’s office for my 10:30am appointment I was immediately crushed. They didn’t have me on the books. No appointment under my name.

I thought about laughing, or crying, or maybe screaming from the top of my swollen throat.

Instead, I thought of a phrase from The Art of Possibility: Transforming Professional and Personal Life – whenever anything goes out of control, haywire or just plain down the dumps, it’s best to look at it with open eyes and just say, “How fascinating.”

So I remained calm. And the woman behind the desk took pity and slipped me in for the 1pm time slot today.

How fascinating.

Finally. The doctor will see you …now. And she did.

Diagnosis: I have a goiter.

It’s sound disgusting, and looks like a golf ball got lodged in my throat instead of in a sand trap on the back nine. My thyroid is swollen up like a balloon.

So I have tons of tests to take this week, but I am so thankful that I finally have a new doctor looking after me.

Turns out she’s exactly what I need: an expert in women’s health, fertility and, GULP, goiters. {GRATEFUL!}

My first item of business, an alkaline diet. As my doctor explained to me what an alkaline diet consists of – whole foods, green juices, veggies galore – I had to hold back a chuckle.

Been there, done that.
Like The Promise 365, year one.

Back to the days of green smoothies, veggies, no sugar, no coffee and no animal meat for me.

It’s like déjà vu over here.
But this will no doubt be a very new journey.

How fascinating.

More tomorrow.
Lovemore (fearless),

{Share what you’re grateful for in the comments section below}

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