This was My Walk of Faith
I can remember that night as if it happened yesterday.
Fall of 2017- some time in September
As usual, after the hustle and bustle of the day, I was finally able to wind down around 11 pm or so.
Typically I would see between 20-25 patients in the office. Some days I could deliver 1, possibly 3 or 4. Who knows?
I can’t remember the greatest number of babies I delivered in one day, but I suspect that number was around 6 or 7.
On those days, it felt like I was running a marathon.
Anyways, back to my winding down for the evening. I was resting comfortably in bed, not thinking about anything and actually enjoying whatever was on TV.
I was chilling!
I felt great!
Until...
My heart began to pound in my chest.
My breathing began to increase in frequency.
Before I knew it, I was hyperventilating.
Immediately I began to have a conversation with myself. Jen, you are fine. Slow your breathing down.
My attempt at self-help was unsuccessful.
The sensation of impending doom occupied my entire being!
My mind, my body, and my soul.
Somehow, I managed to walk out of the bedroom to find Greg. I told him that he needed to call 911 because I was dying. While I was standing, there was a sensation that every ounce of blood was being drained from my body. Prior to closing my eyes, I could see the concern on Greg’s face. As I struggled to remain conscious, I could hear Greg ask: What do you want me to do Jen? Do you want me to call now?
Although the events probably only lasted for a few minutes, it felt like a lifetime. Thankfully, Greg was able to help me slow down my breathing and eventually my heart rate returned back to normal.
And just like that, the sensation was gone.
It took me several minutes to process what happened.
Even longer to acknowledge that I just experienced a panic attack!
No trigger! It just happened!
How could this be? I was fine! So I thought! Y’all do know that doctors are the worst patients?
Throughout my medical career, I comforted, listened, counseled, sent referrals to mental health providers and prescribed medications to my numerous patients that suffered from depression and/or anxiety.
I sympathized for them.
Now, I could empathize with them.
The debilitating change in your psyche that renders you immobile and helpless was like no other experience in my lifetime.
Even though I couldn’t identify a specific trigger at that moment, I wholeheartedly knew the root cause of the panic attack.
You see, for some time (at least a year), I knew God instructed me to stop practicing clinical medicine.
But I couldn’t do it!
Why?
Because of the fear.
I literally dedicated all of my adult life to becoming a doctor. How could I walk way? What was I going to do?
Because of the stories that I created in my head?
If I stop, I am failure. I couldn’t handle the pressure. What would people think? You can’t start over at the age of 46.
The internal emotional stress of no longer living a life I desired, began to encompass my physical body leading to an external manifestation of my discontentment.
It was at THIS very exact moment, that I understood I was at a crossroad. Whatever decision I made, would change the trajectory of my future!
I had to move beyond the fear! Beyond the discomfort of not knowing!
This was my walk of faith. Trusting that God would not leave me or forsake me. Trusting that my steps were ordered. Understanding that the previous years were preparation for what was to come.