This morning I woke up to a voicemail from my dermatologist. “Call us about your results,” it said, which I assumed had to do with to the moles I had taken off recently. Shit, I thought, I have cancer. Super optimistic, I know. That’s me, always assuming the best. As it turns out, the results they were referring to was a test I had done last year at another dermatologist’s office (when my regular dermatologist didn’t take my insurance), a test I was previously told said I had “an inflammation whose cause is unknown.” (The problem went away after I changed washing detergents, but I’ve had other similar issues lately.) My dermatologist’s nurse said the report actually said my skin irritation could have been caused my mites, like scabies. (Ick, gross.) So just to be on the safe side, now I’m on an anti-parasite medication.

This is my life.

Alternatively, the report said I could have contact dermatitis. So maybe in a couple weeks I’m going to get tested for skin allergies. And whereas all of this sort of wears me out, I’m glad that my dermatologist is being aggressive and doing her best to figure out what’s going on. The way I see it, the more information I have, the better. When I walked into the bathroom this morning, I noticed my tongue was black. Again I thought, Cancer. But it turns out it was just a result of having taken Pepto-Bismol last night. My point being, despite my tendency to freak out, I’m learning to trust that everything is going to be fine.

This afternoon I had physical therapy for my knee, which I had surgery on last month. I go to this office with several therapists who all work together, and today I ended up with someone I haven’t seen before. She said she’d had three knee surgeries–three!–including one ACL repair like I had. This was super encouraging, since she was running around the therapy center like a jackrabbit and said now she never thinks about her surgeries. “It gets better,” she said. “Just be patient and follow the protocol and you’ll get to where you want to be.” So this is my new mantra. Be patient. Follow the protocol.

This evening I made dinner–chicken and rice. Oh my gosh, y’all, do you have any idea how long it takes to make rice? Fifty frickin’ minutes. What the hell? It took over an hour to put my entire meal together and only seven to eat it. Where’s the return on investment?

Ugh. It occurs to me that in order to appreciate anything, you’ve got to put your time or money into it. You’ve got to be patient, follow the protocol. For example, after a year of seeing doctors, I appreciate my health more than I ever have. After having injured my knee, I want to run (well, walk) out into the streets and shout, “Do you know how lucky you people are because you have two working legs?!” And despite my joking about how long my meal took to cook, I did enjoy it more than I would have a fast food burger. Not only was it healthier for me, but I made it, and there’s a certain amount of pride in that. (I boiled rice!) So I guess that’s the return on investment, that warm fuzzy feeling you get when you know you’ve worked hard for something, be it your health (including your mental health), your ability to walk, or even your supper.

And, especially in the midst of winter, let us never underestimate the importance of a warm, fuzzy feeling.