"Change or New Beginnings?" by Elena Goodrow

Change is the only constant in life. The never ending chaos of life tends to throw you the biggest waves at the most inconvenient times. That is something I’ve felt deeply these past few weeks. Amidst lots of big changes in my life such as moving, new diagnoses, and increased career inconsistencies, my doctor told me that he is retiring. This is world shattering for me. I have had the same doctor since I was born, he has been fighting for me since the day of my birth. He has saved my life on countless occasions, he knows me just as well as my family does. After 19 years of being his patient, everything changes now.

I walked into my tri-monthly check up thinking it was going to be like every other routine visit. We check my lung function, my blood sugar, my blood pressure, talk about any issues I’m having, draw some blood, and then I’m on my way. That wasn’t exactly what happened this time. I knew things felt different when I walked in, the office was barren. All of the joyful, colorful photos on the wall were gone. The letters and drawings I had made when I was 5 years old were no longer displayed. The energy was low and the air was filled with the smell of fresh paint. The phone didn’t ring once, boxes were stacked up against the wall, and the receptionist and I didn’t have our usual chit-chat. They brought me back to the same exam room I’ve sat in for my entire life. They did the same tests, asked the same questions, I glanced out the window to see my car in the same parking space my Mom parked her car in since I was a toddler. My doctor came in and we discussed some concerns I had regarding my health, he drew blood, did a physical exam, and then we began saying our goodbyes. Normally this is when we would talk about my next appointment. Instead, he told me he is retiring. After a very long career, he is ready to slow down and take his next steps in life. Upon hearing the news, my heart stopped. I drew in a shaky breath. I have feared this moment for years. He told me that he’s referring me to a nearby CF doctor, whom he is confident in. I nodded, hugged him goodbye, thanked him for everything, and walked out the office doors for the last time. I blankly stared at the floor in front of me, got to the elevator, and the moment the elevator doors slid shut I burst into tears. I was overcome by emotion, grief, and fear. I exited the building and looked back at the office one last time, the only doctor’s office I’ve ever known, and then slowly walked to my car in my favorite parking spot. 

I trust my doctor’s referral, and I’m sure my new doctor will be great. I know that there are many wonderful doctors out there, but mine was special. He thought outside of the box, he did procedures and gave me medications when other doctors advised him not to. Because of his willingness to break the rules, he saved my life many times. He always listens to me carefully, and makes sure that I fully understand my own body and health. When I was younger, he came to my music recitals. He would come with my family to fundraising events and run races with my Mom. He helped my parents during one of the scariest times of their life, when I was born very sick and nobody knew what was wrong. He has fought for me and my family since I was born, and that bond will always be there. 

The most difficult part of this change for me is the loss of familiarity and routine. I’ve had the exact same routine my entire life when it comes to my doctors appointments, and now everything will be completely different. I’ve been able to process through my grief, and my family has helped me find things to look forward to. A new doctor’s office means a new city to explore, I can try new restaurants and go to fun shops. Having a fresh start with a doctor might be a good thing, I can rewrite my narrative as an adult CF patient and take charge of my health. This new doctor works out of a CF clinic at a large hospital, which means nice equipment and a different kind of environment which could be fun. Change is terrifying, especially when you’re like me and can’t let go of a routine. Rather than thinking of these things as “change” I choose to call them “new beginnings.”

It’s sad to let go of the past, but a new beginning brings a bright future. When did your life have a new beginning? How did you say goodbye to the past, and embrace the future?