Sometime hope can be worse as worry.
Tomorrow I am having a transoesophageal echocardiogram (toe) to have close look at my mitral heart valve. To see if the pesky clots that have been squatting there for 18 months have – gone, improved or grown and how my valve is functioning.
Unlike the last time I had this test I am not worried. This time i know it’s a painless and reasonably easy procedure. Which i didnt know last time. Plus the outcome is not a complete unknown either. Which meant that the night before the last time I couldn’t help but worry about whether it’s results will lead me towards my second open heart surgery.
Tonight I don’t really have much to worry about. I am not frightened of the procedure or what the results will mean. The worst case scenarios will probably mean I am just where I have been for the last 18 months. Battling with anti-coagultion medicine and the horrible side effects that every one I have tried seem to drown me in.
So tonight I can only hope. Hope that for a change the result could be the best possible outcome. Instead of it being worse or still quite shit, or it’s just shit. Outcomes i am used too.
Hope twinkle with the prospect of not needing anti-coagulation medicine anymore. Meaning no more having to worry about losing my hair on warfarin or stomach problems on rivaroxaban or the daily injections and liver function issues on heprin. My body doesn’t like anti-coagulation medicine. So all I can do is hope I won’t need it.
Hope, just like worry brings a 50 50 chance. 50 50 a good outcome to celebrate or a rubbish one that means stuff I would rather live without. I am quite good at not worrying too much, I feel like the worst has already happened and am I am quite good at dealing with bad news and big challenges that tend to come hand in hand.
Hope – however creeps up on me silently, not showing it’s self. Making be think that I haven’t been hoping for the best outcome all long. But when results or the outcome is rubbish, as more often than not it has been. Then hope smacks you in the face, dumping you from very high height crashing you back doen to reality. To the more probable outcome anyway Hope is sly, it sneeks up on u and it leaves you unprepared. Without a plan or coping approach. Hope only thinks about the the good possibility, the freedoms the happy outcome and doesn’t take a moment to plan for when hope comes tumbling down.
Worrying is shit- but for me it make me plan approaches of how to deal with and react to the challenges that may be faced. Especially when dealing with matters of medicine.
Hope lifts you up, sliently sugar coating, pulling on your dreams to be well, to find the one thing that works. Hope teases you in to believing there is a chance of normal. Then throws you to dogs with bump unprepared and unsure what to do as all your thoughts have been wasted on what if’s and wouldn’t it be a lovely out come.
For me worry is my mate keeping me looking at realistic fact of the situation and making a plan. Giving me strength and courage
Hope is a department store sale assistant telling you how fab you look in that hideous dress, how slim, how lovely. And then u take it home and it is meant for someone ten years younger. Its the totally the wrong colour, fit, and style for you.
Hope is my enemy but one that I havent found a way to avoid even when It will only lead to horrible disappointment.
Does anyone else find worry to be a useful tool to strategize and plan reactions and responses. For difficult circumstan? Or do experience Where hope setting you up for a fall.? Or a completely different experience of worry and hope when deali ng with ongoing medical bits . okabd bobs