How My Dog Helped Me Get My Act Together Before a Stressful Appointment

Sometimes we receive a wake up call from the the least expected sources.

Earlier this year, I was scheduled for a last minute medical appointment with major implications and where I had little control— a situation that for many cancer fighters, starts to feel like just another Tuesday.

Since being diagnosed in 2016, it’s been a steady flow of life in crisis mode. And while I’m blessed to have improved the state of my health, the trauma has taken a toll. Even on good days, I can catch myself operating with a heightened state of anxiety. And when triggering events like the surprise appointment appear on the horizon, PTSD can break out in full force.

All week, I found myself leveled out on the couch with a heating pad to calm the nerves. I had trouble sleeping and little appetite. During phone calls with family and friends, I heard my voice — loud, panicked… but I was so caught in the loops of terror that I felt disassociated from reality.

My wife was equally as nervous, although she tends to put on a braver front for my benefit. We’ve been tested by these kinds of scary moments all too often, so it’s no longer quite as shocking as during the first few years, but still excruciating.

(On a brighter note, the one nice part is that this extreme state of fear tends to bring us closer together. We understand each other’s agony in a way that few others can relate. Also, it’s the times when your sense of security in life feels questioned where you gain clear perspective on what matters most. Right at the top of my list are the people in my life.)

Towards the end of the week, my wife left for work and that’s when it was brought to my attention just how bent out of shape I had gotten…

Our dog Penny Lane threw up a few times in the morning. Then again later in the day. And again at night. She was still eating and moving around fine so it became clear that she had picked up on my smothering levels of anxiety. My frantic, chaotic energy was literally infecting the house!

It was a shocking realization. I immediately took a breath and slowed down, thinking to myself: “Dude, you NEED to chill out.” Then I made some peppermint tea and meditated. For the rest of the day, I became laser focused on my aura, movements and speaking volume. This was no longer about my own sense of panic; I had to be better for my family.

The funny thing is the reframed awareness actually made a huge difference in my mood. Fueled by a larger purpose, I was able to get out of my own head, escape the nagging fears and worries, and re-focus on taking care of those around me.

As a cancer fighter up against constant life or death scenarios, self-compassion and “feeling my feelings” is critical for personal wellness. But my dog’s anxious reaction (which improved the next day) was a powerful reminder that it’s also important to be mindful that others—who are equally invested in our wellbeing—can pick up on our energy.

And in this case, using that realization as motivation to be a bigger, more selfless version of myself was entirely empowering.