It is constantly on my mind, though:
At the zoo with my daughter. Camping. Staring at the moon through a telescope. In the midst of mind blowing sex.
It is always there.
Is this the moment when my world starts to unravel?
It is worse, much worse when I am away from the office, as if being away creates some sort of anxiety vortex. The only time I can be away during office hours and NOT have anxiety is when I am out of the country, overseas.
I worry how it will affect my family. My staff. My friends. My colleagues. My reputation. Me.
Because even though I have been threatened repeatedly, nothing has happened officially in over eleven years of practice. Still, it is not a question of if.
It is a question of when.
The stages of grief include anger. That puts physicians and other healthcare providers within the cross hairs. I accept and understand that often, no matter whether things were done perfectly or not, I will be the target of that anger. And yet I cannot let go of the anxiety. I carry it with me, waiting for someone to take that anger to the next level.
I will sue the clothes off your back.
I don’t write about getting sued because if I acknowledge it, it feels that I am inviting it. Call it superstition. Paranoia.
*knocks on wood*
Someday it will happen, though. When it does, I fear that I will walk away from medicine. I am tough but I am not sure I am tough enough to weather that onslaught without crumbling under the enormity of it.
So every day I wait and I worry.