A doctor a day keeps the bad thoughts away? On the contrary

It's been awhile. Good to see you! You look great.

As mentioned in one of my previous posts, I suffer from severe health anxiety.

I haven't been to the health center once this year before today. This is a remarkable accomplishment for me... and I only went because my throat is bothering me and I have to sing tomorrow.

Last year, I went to the health center more than five times per semester. Can you imagine?

In my defense, I had mono my first semester, so the visits were warranted. The times I went to the health center during the second semester, however, are completely attributed to my OCD.

After returning to school from spring break, I noticed a small lump on my shin. I proceeded to obsessively look up possible causes of lumps on the shin, and of course, my brain gravitated to the results that suggested I might have a cancerous tumor. It was nearly impossible for this to be true, yet I was convinced and proceeded to schedule an appointment with one of the health care providers.

The first doctor said I was fine, but my OCD convinced me to get a second opinion. So, I made an appointment with another doctor. This next doctor reassured me that nothing was wrong, and insisted that the bump was the result of an injury. With this response, my OCD reasoned that I should see a sports doctor who specializes in muscular injuries. The third doctor was unsure of what the bump could be, but did not think it was anything serious. My brain disregarded the second part of that sentence and became even more paranoid.

I remember walking out of that appointment and collapsing to the ground in tears. I was a healthy person, how could I have a cancerous tumor? Why me?

At this point, my OCD had completely taken control. A couple of days later I made an appointment with the doctor who I had initially seen for the problem. This time, instead of voicing my concerns about the bump, I broke down and told her that I suffer from OCD.

As soon as I confessed to my mental health condition, the doctor gave me a smile. But it wasn't a demeaning smile... rather one that was indicative of her understanding as to why I was so concerned about nothing. She suggested that I get an x-ray when returning home for the summer, so that I could physically see that nothing was wrong.

So once I returned home, my mom made an appointment with my general physician. My x-ray was clear, which meant that the bump was, in fact, located in the muscle. With this, the radiologist suggested that I end all of my worrying by getting an MRI. This expensive solution did end up resolving my worries, for the MRI showed nothing more than a muscle injury from running.

What a happy ending! All turned out to be well. I no longer had to worry about this little bump.

If only it were that easy. If only OCD could actually be fixed by reassurance and rituals. My worries were only temporarily resolved. Unfortunately, the doctor visits just made my OCD stronger. Months later, I found myself doubting the results from the MRI. Fortunately around that time, I was regularly seeing a therapist, and no more doctor's appointments were made.

I'm embarrassed by this story. I'm ashamed. I feel guilty for how much money was wasted. I'm frustrated with how much energy was spent on my irrational fear.

But this story is important. This story helped push me to seek professional help. This story highlights the severity of the effect of irrational thoughts. This is my story, and I'm proud to share it.

With all of this being said, maybe now you can see how great of an accomplishment it is for me to have only been to the health center once this whole school year.

And as always, have the best evening.