I am not a naturally patient person. I’ve always been impatient. As a child, I would count down to summer break and movie releases. I was at the bookstore as soon as each Harry Potter book was released.
Recently, I wrote about our experience when our apartment’s floors flooded during the holidays for No Sidebar, one of my favorite sites about simple living and minimalism (my article is here) Sites like No Sidebar helped me to realize that I was literally making myself sicker—mentally and physically—on the path I was on.
January is a rough month. And this January has been rougher than many. As soon as I started to feel better from the medication transitions I came down with a bad cold. I’m having trouble shaking it. A lot of my goals have been put aside while I focus on making tea and food that I can eat despite my aching throat. I haven’t worked out or attended my doctor appointments, or done much of anything but the bare minimum.
I often feel like an expert in being chronically ill. I know how to look up doctors on my insurance company’s website. I know to ask if they cover me just in case when I make an appointment. I know to ask if the tests are covered as well when they suggest something. I know how many physicals and dental check-ups I get a year and I know what out of network versus in network means. I know how to get reimbursed for out of pocket expenses. I know what an FSA is. I know I can ask my pharmacist if the medications I take could have dangerous interactions.
I love to travel but there are so many moving parts and elements that I cannot control. I worry about forgetting something. This is magnified a thousand-fold when traveling, because if I forgot something I can’t just go back for it later or get it in a few hours. I start to catastrophize—like what will I do if I forget my medication? Or what if I forgot to turn off the oven and my place burns down while I’m gone?