The Scanner
On glitches you see coming, those you can't, and the ones you'd rather not know about.
Walking into the gym for a dance class, I ran into a new friend. She asked me, “How do you know if you’re having an aneurysm?”
I stopped for a second, while also struggling with the gym’s laser check-in barcode phone scanner. Scan, scan, scan, why isn’t it working? Did she just ask me how to know if you’re having an aneurysm?
She was serious. I put my hand on her elbow, not to be condescending, but to show compassion, “You would know. I don’t think you have to worry.”
“How did you know?”
“Well, without going into too much graphic detail, it’s not really something you can ignore. You’ll want to call 911.” And I gave up trying to get the scanner to beep.
As we found our spots in the studio, waiting for the instructor to join us, I asked why she asked. She shared that she’s getting a full body scan. It can find early stage cancers, aneurysms and, from what it sounds like, all manner of potential glitches. I felt uncomfortable, unsure about that as a concept. I mean, yah, I understand. She’s having pain and she’s feeling really anxious about it. Will knowing help? Maybe. The unknown can be so very scary. Would I voluntarily want to know about any glitch that exists or could?
I’m not so sure.
Maybe I think that we’re supposed to handle things in the timeline that they decide to arrive. There’s a part of me that believes that if you go digging, you’ll find something. And maybe it wouldn't have ever turned up. Does this mean I want to bury my head in the sand? I’ve faced so many realities. Worked through the consequences. Am I someone who would say to my doctor, the way my mom did in the throes of ALS, “I only want to hear good news”?
Is a “potential” glitch something I want to worry about?
I can’t say.
In between the joy and full bodied immersion of our teacher’s dedication to the routines choreographed to Grease, Bad Bunny, and Britney Spears, we continued to chat.
She said, “You should be a counselor for people navigating a diagnosis or worrying about their health.”
Grapevine, turn. Isolate. Chest pump.
“I’m not a licensed therapist though,” I responded.
Grapevine, turn. Isolate. Chest pump. No wonder my back ribs have been so sore.
“I know,” she said. “But sometimes it’s better to connect with someone who has actually been through it.”
Have you Googled your symptoms this week?
Forward this along to anyone you know who may be up at 2am consulting Dr. Google.
☀️ The Monday Morning Pep Talk Live: Get Unstuck Zoom call on June 29 was pretty special. I shared the list of 10 Things You Might Not Know About Me that Janne shared. We all got chills and were inspired to share more of our own story. We shared some of our own list of 10.
The next Monday Morning Live Pep Talks are July 27 and August 31 at 10am Pacific. Calendar invites have been sent. I hope you’ll RSVP so I know you’re coming. Upgrade to paid and we’ll be so excited to have you in the conversation.
Spots are still available for my summer workshop: Your Story is Your Brand. Starts July 17. Details at the link below. Incredible women have joined this group. Email me if you have any questions or want to talk about your goals.