After turning 48 in January, I started the year off with an ob-gyn visit, vaccine update, and mammogram. Since these visits, though, my proactive nature unwittingly unleashed undue stress, leaving me to wonder if ignorance is bliss when it comes to health. Is looking under the hood always the best thing for your mental state?
The ob-gyn visit yielded normal results on one front, but a second opinion on another, which is still an entire month away. The mammogram was inconclusive, so another round of imaging is required. I wasn’t bothered by this notification since my mom recently had the same news, and the outcome was fine. At least my Tdap booster went off without a hitch, save for a sore arm the next day.
Now my issue is with the speed and diligence in which my provider is responding to the follow-up appointment request — meaning, it perhaps borders on negligent. Here in California, our provider and insurance company are one in the same, which generally leads to faster response times and more affordable care. However, I’m now approaching the two-week mark just to schedule an ultrasound and/or second mammogram, with no explanation for the delay. I’ve been given one phone number, and I’m permitted to leave only one message with my details. Even my attempts to circumvent these restrictions have gotten me no further in the process.
My self-induced low-level anxiety of trying to access routine care has me wishing I had left well enough alone, even as irresponsible as that sounds.
But this feeling is rooted in previous experience. Several years ago, I cosplayed as a marginal biohacker — I subjected myself to 17-vial blood draws where 150+ biomarkers were measured. In doing so, I uncovered a couple of health anomalies. One was corrected with a self-prescribed supplement,[1] but the other is understudied, not well understood, and seemingly unaffected by diet, exercise, or pharmaceuticals. I now have to live with this information; I can’t unknow it. Supposedly, I cannot effect change to this particular biomarker, and it could have consequences.[2]
It’s like grief. It hits hard in the beginning, but with time, the impact fades and you slowly forget. Or at least, it isn’t as pervasive in your brain. In some respects, I regret getting a glimpse into the mechanics of my being. However, had I not done so, I’d unknowingly still have two potentially serious issues.
To be clear, I don’t believe I’m a ticking time bomb — but I guess all of our respective times are limited.
Am I concerned about the recommended follow-up screenings? Sure. I’d love to have these secondary tests done, assessed, and move on, whatever that may look like. I can’t undo what I started, and for now I’m at the mercy of phone trees and medical message portals.
A small part of me, though, wants to choose to forget and shove what I know (or don’t know) back in the can and chuck it away.
This is all anecdotal. I am obviously not a doctor, nor do I claim to know better than a doctor. I merely had my levels rechecked, and they decreased to a healthy range. ↩︎
I had the blood test in question done a couple more times, and the needle did budge a bit in the right direction. This was years ago, however. My diet and lifestyle have evolved even more since then, and basic panels have revealed improvements as well. I choose to believe that the troublesome marker is following suit, even if I don’t have the newest data to back up my suspicion. ↩︎