Yesterday I went for my quarterly appointment with my ‘crazy doctor’. I used to see her weekly, but once my meds were stable, I ‘graduated’ to every 3 months. At these meetings we discuss how the previous 3 months have been – it is important to help me keep my ups and downs in check. In fact the last 2 time changes are the first in 6 years that I have not had a significant swing up or down because we were able to be proactive based on my past cycles. So these check-ins are important.
As I walked into her office she had a concerned look on her face. I sat down.
Crazy Docter: “Did you get the letter?”
JLa: “What letter? I did not get any letter, what address was it sent it to?”
CD: “Londonderry View Drive.”
JLa: “Nope, those were my WEHO days with the gay boys. I’ve moved on to being ‘urban’ with the homeless people in downtown. What did the letter say?”
CD: “I have to relocate.”
JLa: “No problem, I already drive to Tustin from downtown to see you…where are you relocating to?”
JLa: “Oh…well that is just a touch further than Tustin. So that means…you’re leaving?”
At this point many things cross my mind. It is natural to be a bit taken back. After all I have seen her for 6 years now – she walked me through some of the most challenging times in my life. She has been a constant – just a phone call (or a hour and a half commute) away. If I had questions or was becoming a little Penelope-ish or sliding down the slope of depression, she was there with a plan in place. Not to mention she is very forward thinking and laughs at my jokes and tells me that I am doing extraordinarily well and that I should be proud of that.
Then I started thinking about the process of finding someone new. The good news is that I can find someone that is a bit closer. But then there is the unknown that is a bit daunting: Getting the recommendations, the interview process (because lets be honest, it is a process), bringing someone new up to speed as to how I have gotten to where I am (insert ‘Turns out I have a blog…these 3 key posts really summarize it well. You’re welcome.’) and then after all of that deciding of this person is a fit. It is so very important to me to have a doctor that is not super conservative in their approach. Someone who is willing to hear about the new thing I have been researching and incorporating holistic options where they make sense. I am not into “Here are some more pills, take them because I say so. See you in 3 months.” Not to mention finding someone who will laugh at my madness and embrace the fact that crazy is indeed my superpower.
After our conversation I left feeling uncertain, but also fine. I get to see her again in 2 months before she leaves, which gives me enough time to find someone new that can talk to her as part of my transition and come up with a meaningful parting gift for her (Ideas are welcome). As I got on the 5 freeway at 8:30 am to go back to LA, I had [lots] of time to reflect on this news. I found myself saying out loud over and over: “Change is good.” (Side note: yes, sometimes I talk to myself, out loud in my car. At least since the invention of Bluetooth in cars other people do not look at me and wonder if the weird girl in the car next to them has lost her mind and reverted to talking to herself. Thank you inventors of blue tooth.) “Change is good” “Change is good.”
And then I thought of something that I saw this past weekend at the MOCA ‘Art in the Streets’ exhibit. Tucked away in an installation by Os Gemeos (amazing BTW) was the quote “In order to open a new door, you have to close the old one.” DUH. This is my new door. There is something waiting for me ahead and this is the opportunity to go find it. This is not a scary awful thing. I can embrace this change.
I am a firm believer in timing and being ready to hear/accept/take things in. This morning I woke up with this new change on my mind again and as I sat with my breakfast reading a few blogs, I read a post on ‘turning corners’ written by one of my very dearest friends. Just what I needed to hear. I am ready for this change. I am ready to turn this corner. And I look forward to what awaits me.