Books to Blogs #12
Book: 3001 Questions All About Me
Question #1147: “Do I know my medical history? How did I become familiar with it?”
Some questions arrive like quiet invitations to look inward. This week’s prompt is one of them. Medical history isn’t something most people think about unless they have to, yet it becomes part of the story of who we are — whether we expect it or not.
Yes, I know my medical history. I’ve always had a strong memory, the kind that files details neatly and keeps them within reach. For most of my life, I assumed that was typical — that everyone remembered their body’s milestones and health chapters with the same clarity.
And then my early twenties arrived, and with them, a revelation I never saw coming.
Up until the attempt to have a child, I believed my body followed the same blueprint as everyone else. But after I miscarried, the doctor paused mid-exam and said, “What am I working with here?” before bringing in a sonogram specialist. That moment shifted everything I thought I knew. It was the exact point where my body introduced itself to me — fully, honestly, and in its own language.
What followed was a year that felt like a deep dive into an atlas I didn’t know existed. Imaging, procedures, specialists. And because my miscarriage was also a partial molar pregnancy, my body continued producing HCG long after it should have. That meant weekly blood draws, then bi-weekly, then monthly, until my levels finally cleared. It became a ritual of monitoring, learning, and researching — a crash course in understanding a body I thought I already knew.
Little by little, I discovered the ways my anatomy didn’t follow the usual template. It was a revelation born of heartbreak, and yet it taught me more about my body than I had ever known.
Since then, whenever I see a new doctor (which is rare), I brace myself for the medical history paperwork. Not because I’m unsure — but because recalling the timelines brings me back to chapters I don’t revisit often. They’re still mine, but they sit quietly unless called forward.
One blessing in all of this is having a doctor husband. Together, we navigate our health intentionally. We order our own labs, check in before anything becomes a concern, and choose approaches that honor prevention and awareness instead of reacting to symptoms. It allows us to care for our bodies thoughtfully and stay grounded in what truly matters.
So yes, I know my medical history — not as a list of events, but as a story my body once whispered, then finally spoke aloud. A story that shaped me, softened me, taught me to listen, and reminded me that understanding ourselves from the inside out is one of the most intimate forms of self-knowledge.
Author’s Note
If you’ve experienced loss, unexpected news about your body, or anything in between, please know you are not alone. Our stories may be different, but the tenderness of navigating them is something many of us quietly share. Healing is not linear, and our bodies unfold their truth in ways we don’t always expect.
If reading this stirred emotions or memories, I hope you take a deep, grounding breath and offer yourself kindness. Your story is valid. Your pace is perfect. Your body is not your enemy — it’s your witness, your companion, and the keeper of chapters you’ve lived with courage.
Closing Reflection
How well do you know the story your body has been trying to tell?
Not just the medical notes or the paperwork, but the lived experiences — the patterns, the changes, the moments that shifted your understanding of yourself. Your body holds its own archive, and you’re allowed to open it gently, at your pace.
Your history isn’t something to fear.
It’s something to witness.
And honoring it is another way of honoring you.
Theresa
Flexible Being
Empowering Your Journey to Healing, Clarity, and Self-Discovery.
I thank you for being here. If you enjoyed this post, there’s plenty more where that came from,
everything from soulful healing tips to playful prompts and real conversations about life.
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Email: theresa@flexiblebeing.com
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