Trust

Trust.

It's such a simple word in so many ways. And in so many others, it's so very complicated.

I found my first Endocrinologist on a recommendation from a friend. I trusted this friend. I still do. I believed she was guiding me to someone who would really help me. I instantly liked the doctor. She was nice. Had a small office and an extremely kind office staff. She took her time with me. I handed her my trust willingly.

She told me I was infertile. I trusted her.

She told me to discontinue my birth control because it was making my disease and symptoms worse. I trusted her.

She told me that surgery was on my very close horizon. I trusted her.

When I called to let her know, 6 weeks later, that I was pregnant she informed me that she had zero experience with pregnant patients, especially those that had been exposed to radiation. She told me that my baby could be in danger because of the radiation. She told me that I needed to find another doctor.

I didn't need her to tell me that last part. I trusted my gut and had made the decision to find another doctor as soon as the stick read 'pregnant'.

I went through another Endocrinologist before finding one that I felt truly comfortable with. Before finding the one that would tell me that I didn't need to have my throat slit to find relief from my disease. Before finding the one that would lay it all out for me and explain things clearly and plainly.

Before finding the one that I trust, completely.

I first met my gynecologist when I was 19. I was scared. I was nervous. I did not want to be there. I was a little weirded out by the fact that not only was she my gynecologist now but she was also my mom's and my mom's friends gynecologist. But her couches were really comfortable and she was incredibly nice. I trusted her instantly.

I kind of had to. She was going somewhere that required complete trust.

I am alive because of her. Without her my first pregnancy could have ended badly. Without her my second pregnancy could have ended in a much worse way. She is the reason that my daughter and I are doing so well after a tumultuous 7.5 months.

I trust her with my life. With my children's lives. I put my faith into her and what she tells me. I have no reason to doubt her.

I was not completely ok with leaving her office last week without an order for more tests. I was not completely ok with being told to come back in two months. I was not completely ok with her un-decidedness about where my pain and discomfort were coming from. I was not completely ok with how the whole appointment went.

But I trust her. I do.

I waited a week. I knew that my monthly visitor would be making an appearance and maybe all of this was due to that. Maybe it was a pre-cursor to that. She had even randomly suggested that, after suggesting that I might be pregnant.

I really did not think so. I really did not believe that what was going on in my breast had anything to do with what was going on, or what was going to go on, in my reproductive region. I felt more. My gut told me more. I told all of you that.

But I trusted her. I still do.

I trust my gut more. I trust the fact that my monthly friend has come to visit and I am still in pain. Moreso that a week ago. I trust the fact that in the shower this morning when I went to wash my armpit and right breast the pain was more evident than it has been. I trust that I am not ok with waiting two months.

I am getting a second opinion. I am calling my primary and going to see him. I am demanding tests. I am trusting my gut. I am trusting what is within me. I am trusting what I know right now.

And I feel like I'm cheating on my doctor while finally being true to myself.

I was not ok when I left her office. I had to convince myself that I believed what she said. I had to convince myself to trust her.

And I do trust her.

I just trust me more.