Battery of Tests

About 10 years ago, I went for a very routine doctor’s appointment. I’m generally pretty healthy and there wasn’t anything particularly wrong, the appointment only prompted by needing my migraine medication. My GP is very good and mentioned that I hadn’t had a blood test for a while and he would like me to go and get that done. No problem, I thought, so off I went.

Two days later, I missed a call and on checking my voice, heard a message from my doctor’s office asking me to come back in. Now a normal person would have maybe dealt with that like a grown-up but my overthinking brain went into meltdown. Like most people with that habit, I didn’t say anything aloud to anyone just internally convinced myself that it was bad news.

With the feeling of impending doom, I headed into the clinic. I sat down and my GP looked at me and said “are you a vegan?”. Not the question I had expected given the plethora of things I had prepared for in my brain. I looked at him very confused and said “of course I’m not a vegan. I’m from Dubbo”. Being from the UK, he had no clue what that reference meant but could see the confusion on my face. He reassured me that it was perfectly normal and that lots of women my age had iron issues and wanted me to start taking some iron tablets.

You’d think at that point, I’d be relieved. I was thrilled it turned out to be something relatively minor but the words “women your age” were still sitting in my ears. In my brain, I felt the same as I did when I was 18 but I was in fact, at that stage, a 40 years old woman. I think that was the first moment I really thought about the aging arch. 30 to 40 isn’t physically that much different but 40 to 50 was a different trajectory, with different health implications.

It also wasn’t the first time I had let my mind run away with me and think the worst. I was getting ready for my nightly shower about 6 months prior and before I even undressed, I felt a mass, through my shirt that I knew hadn’t been there before. Within 10 seconds I went from worst-case scenario, which felt all the more ridiculous when I realised that it was a Cheeto that had dropped in my bra, unnoticed by me while I was throwing food at my face while I was driving home. I then silently berated myself for my shit eating habits.

In the 10 years since, I have noticed the difference. I make more noise when I’m getting out of a chair. I’m not sleeping as well, I have put on weight and I broke my leg while casually walking the dog (that’s a whole other story). Now being 50, I had the joy of coming home from my birthday weekend away to a Bowel Screening Test. I said aloud to my friend, well that’s a shit present and then had a little laugh about the irony of that statement.

It made me think about all the girlfriends who have had bad news but are still here because they caught it early. The most integral part of self-care isn’t making sure you have time for a bath every now and then. It’s making sure you are fit and healthy and still around for the people that love you.

Women tend to put things off because they don’t have time and if we’re honest, we are scared. Let’s face it, it’s nobody’s idea of a good time, pooing in a plastic container, having your boobs scanned, your moles checked, or having a pap smear but they are a hell of a lot better than the alternative. Buy yourself a vanilla-scented candle if you must but please make sure you give yourself the best chance of being around to enjoy it. You owe it to yourself.