Like many people, I detest going to the doctor. Growing up in Italy, where medical care is a right and affordable, I would run into our local doctor at a grocery store or on the street, and he would say “Why don’t you grace my office with your presence sometime.”
I saw no need to do so. I felt great, I was thin but strong, with a good appetite. And from all the years when I was a little kid and my dad would take me from one m.d. to another in search of a “cure” for my undiagnosed cerebral palsy, I was convinced that most doctors knew little of the human body and were mostly useless.
Once I’ve formed an opinion about something or someone, it takes a profound shift for me to change my mind. Others have simply called me capa tosta (hard-headed).
So now I live in the U.S., married, a little paunchy, and leading a comfortable, simple life. Early on, my wife and I made a pact that preserving our health is a primary factor in continuing to enjoy our lives together well into old age. She has always insisted that I have a primary care physician (PCP) and regular checkups. My wife can be very insistent, and because I believe in “happy wife, happy life,” I have dutifully visited doctors, surrendered seemingly quarts of blood for testing, and put up with endless droning about losing weight, cutting back on salt, and getting more exercise.
There is a common heart-related condition that runs in my family. I was aware that I, too, had this condition while I was still in Italy. I never did anything about it because I hate taking medicines (see a pattern here?) and I felt fine.
For the last year or so, I have not felt so fine. The sensation that something was wrong kept growing in me. But I tried not to let my wife know. I did not want to worry her and to have her start ranting about seeing a doctor.
I did not succeed in hiding my feelings. Because most things were in lock-down due to the pandemic and my wife did not think much of the care I was getting at a medical clinic, she did not harp much on my going to a doctor. But she would roll her eyes up to heaven whenever she’d hear me ask my sister and my friends what could be causing my tiredness and headaches.
Recently, I got onto a different health insurance plan, and I went to a new PCP. My wife and I explained my symptoms to him, and he performed an EKG in office.
After looking at the results, did the PCP looked concerned! That scared me more than anything. I was tired, but I had no chest pain or shortness of breath. Otherwise, the doctor surely would have called an ambulance to take me to a hospital. He urged me to go to a hospital emergency room anyway, gave me some samples of medication – he even had me take the first pill right there in front of him – and insisted I see a cardiologist. I was also given an appointment to see the PCP again in a week’s time.
Of course, I did not go to an emergency room. I told my wife that I was fine, just a little tired. I slept really well that night, and I continued to take the pills the doctor had given me. I started to convince myself that he had scared me needlessly.
One day during a car ride, we were talking about something or other, when my wife casually tossed off the remark, “and I can’t sleep, thinking that you could soon die.” That left me speechless.
I knew my wife had been falling asleep at her regular time, then waking up after a couple of hours. In the mornings when I would get up, she would be in front of her laptop. I realized that she had less energy and was starting to look worn down.
All the time I had been cavalier about my health, I did not seriously consider the effect I has having on her. She had not been nagging me to see a doctor, to take my medication, etc. just to be annoying. My wife had been suffering anxiously, in silence. She loves me, and I was making her suffer.
Since then, I have seen a cardiologist. He listened to me carefully, calmly, and changed my medication. I am starting to do better, not just physically, but in my duty as a husband. Most likely I will stumble again, but I will not forget my wife’s words in the car.
Have you every realized the effect that your self-centeredness has on other people?
Do you like stories about curses, steamy settings, and alluring people with mysterious powers? Are you interested in the early days of rock and roll and the hard road to fame? E.E. Mazier’s new novel, Johnny Moon and the Black Dog Queen, offers all that and more. Now available as a paperback and on Kindle at Amazon. Note: In Jan. 2026 price of the paperback will increase to meet requirements for Expanded Distribution. Buy before Jan. 1 to beat the price increase!
Life is an Uphill Struggle – Old Québec City, Canada courtesy of ‘Anton’
ANTON CIRCLES HIS WORLD 