The Ungodly Waiting: Coping While You Wait for Medical Tests
Maribeth Doerr | DEC 21, 2025
In 2025, I experienced an issue with one of my breasts.
Of course, I fell straight down the rabbit hole known as Dr. Google, reading all sorts of conflicting and terrifying information.
Without diving into the chaos of referrals, exams, tests, more referrals, insurance approvals, callbacks, and appointments (because honestly, that’s a whole separate essay), I want to share a few things that helped me cope with the waiting.
The ungodly waiting.
Waiting for appointments.
Waiting in doctor’s offices.
Waiting for referrals.
Waiting for callbacks.
Waiting for insurance approval.
Waiting, waiting, waiting.
These are some things that helped me—and a few that were shared with me by other champion waiters along the way.
While waiting, the mind loves to leap into the future and set up house in the worst-case scenario.
At one point, I pictured myself attending my son’s wedding wearing a wig because I was bald from chemotherapy.
Part of me thought, Well girl, find the best damn wig out there and rock it.
But seriously—two of the best pieces of advice I received were:
“Don’t live there until you get there.”
“Don’t pay rent on a space you may never live in.”
It’s hard not to go there. But returning to those phrases again and again helped bring me back to the present moment—where I actually was.
Tiny practice:
Inhale slowly for a count of four.
Exhale for six.
Repeat three to five times to help ground your body and come back to now.
It’s natural to want answers. But constant Googling symptoms and outcomes almost always increases anxiety.
One helpful strategy is to create “worry windows.”
Set a timer—maybe two or five minutes—to look things up if you must. When the time is up, gently redirect your attention elsewhere.
You can even tell yourself, “I can look up one more thing in two hours.”
Often, just knowing you have permission later is enough to quiet the urgency now.
Waiting is exhausting.
Support your body with nourishing food, water, and rest whenever possible. Sleep may be harder during uncertain times, so simple bedtime rituals—gentle stretching, calming music, dim lights—can help signal safety to your nervous system.
Gather what soothes you.
A favorite blanket.
A calming playlist.
A journal.
A book that feels steady or familiar.
Having comfort nearby doesn’t fix the waiting—but it reminds you that you are cared for, even by yourself.
Write down your fears—but also your hopes. Journaling can be a safe container for everything you’re carrying.
You might try prompts like:
“Right now, what I most need is…”
“If I offered myself compassion in this moment, it would look like…”
If your body allows, light movement can help release nervous energy.
A short walk.
Chair yoga.
Gentle stretching.
Even a few mindful movements can shift your mood and help you feel more grounded while you wait.
Waiting can feel incredibly isolating.
If it feels right, share with a trusted friend or family member:
“I’m waiting for test results—and it’s hard.”
Sometimes naming it out loud lightens the load just enough.
Notice tiny, ordinary moments of ease:
Sunlight on a leaf.
The warmth of a mug of tea.
A smile from a neighbor.
These small anchors don’t erase worry—but they help balance it.
Information overload can amplify anxiety.
Give yourself permission to step away from screens and reconnect with the tangible world—your body, your breath, what’s right in front of you.
So many people know this kind of waiting.
It’s a tender, deeply human experience.
Offer yourself the same grace and kindness you would give a dear friend in the same situation.
P.S. I’m still waiting for the next test.
And yes—waiting still sucks.
But it’s a little more bearable when we remember we don’t have to wait alone.
If you’re in the middle of waiting right now, I hope you remember this:
You are allowed to be scared and steady.
Impatient and brave.
Tired of waiting and still showing up for your life.
Nothing about this in-between makes you weak.
Waiting asks a lot of us—more than most people realize.
May you be kind to your body as it carries uncertainty.
May you rest when you can.
May you come back to the present moment again and again.
And may you remember—you don’t have to have all the answers today.
Today, it’s enough to breathe.
Today, it’s enough to wait.
Today, it’s enough to be exactly where you are.
Maribeth Doerr | DEC 21, 2025
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