Not many people know this, but my legal name is Olivia Winkler. To this day, hearing that name makes me feel physically sick. It's painfully ironic. We go to doctor's appointments looking for answers, yet so many people with chronic illness end up feeling unsafe in the very place that's supposed to provide care. Over time, I've learned that I can't put the weight of my entire future on one appointment. I can't control how a provider responds to me, what they know, or how they choose to communicate.

What I can control is how I show up for myself and how I care for my body before, during, and after the appointment. Sometimes hope is what carries us until we can carry ourselves again.

I went from having three seizures a day to starting my own podcast and business. Welcome to the Chronic Fighter Podcast, where we help teens and young adults with chronic illness take their lives back. I'm your host, Liv Winkler, a health and nutrition coach, founder of the Chronic Fighter Health Coaching Business, Lifelong Chronic Illness Girl with a degree in psychology and concentration in health coaching. This podcast meets you exactly where you're at in your health journey and offers science-backed tools that changed my life and can change yours too.

I would love to be the person for you that I wished I had growing up.

Hi, welcome to the Chronic Fighter Podcast. I'm your host, Liv Winkler. Not many people know this, but my legal name is Olivia Winkler. Please never call me that. No one ever has, except medical professionals. My legal name is very triggering for me because it's tied to years of hospital visits, doctors' appointments, medical testing, and some very difficult and traumatizing experiences. To this day,

Hearing that name makes me feel physically sick. I actually debated whether I wanted to share this because even talking about it affects me. As I'm recording this, I can literally feel my palms starting to sweat. It affects me so much that I plan to legally change my name to Live when I get married. It's funny, most of my friends even know this. So when a doctor or nurse asks, what do you prefer to go by or remembers to call me Live at my next appointment, it means more to me than they could even realize.

Those small moments make me feel like a person instead of just another name on the medical chart. I feel more like myself. Even my birthday doesn't feel special to me for a similar reason. I've repeated two hundred twenty eight three so many times in medical settings that it doesn't feel like a special date. It feels like another hospital question. Over the years, so many things in medical settings have become triggers for me. Hospital bracelets, getting my vitals taken, especially my weight.

Hospital gowns, bright fluorescent lights, getting asked the same questions over and over again, and I cannot take my hospital bracelet off fast enough after an appointment is over. If you've ever felt your heart race, your body start to shake, or completely shut down before a doctor's appointment, you're not alone. After years of searching for answers to my mystery symptoms, I developed a lot of medical anxiety. There was nothing wrong with me for feeling this way.

My body had learned to associate medical settings with experiences where I didn't feel safe. And it's painfully ironic. We go to doctor's appointments looking for answers, yet so many people with chronic illness end up feeling unsafe in the very place that's supposed to provide care. My body was often maneuvered in all different directions while getting evaluated. To be honest, it felt incredibly exposing. Instead of my body feeling like a safe place or home, my body felt foreign.

It became something that felt unpredictable and difficult to trust. For years I relied on strangers to tell me why my own body was behaving the way it was, because I didn't know myself. Doctors' visits were taxing on my body both physically and mentally. I'd leave completely drained. Sometimes I'd leave with bruises on my arms from blood draws, and I was embarrassed by all the marks. I felt defeated. I share all of this because maybe you know exactly what that feels like.

The anticipation before the appointment, the triggers during it, and the exhaustion that follows. But I've learned that there are things I can do to make that entire experience easier on my body and take some of the pressure off off of myself. So instead of sitting here and giving you a list of things you can do for medical anxiety, I want to do something a little different today. We are going to go through an entire experience together. From getting ready at home to the car ride there, to sitting in the waiting room, talking to the doctor, and finally getting back home.

And along the way, I'll show you the things I actually do to help my body feel safer and make medical appointments feel more manageable. All right, we have a doctor's appointment today. Let's get ready. Let's say it's in the afternoon. One of the best things you can do is prepare your nervous system ahead of time, instead of walking into the appointment already overwhelmed. For me, that starts with intentionally taking some time to calm my body. I do my own version of meditation, but the goal isn't to do exactly what I do.

It's to figure out what helps your body feel safe and regulated. You don't have to do all of these things. Even one or two small changes can make a difference. One thing that's really helped me is spending time in prayer. I instantly feel calmer and at peace. I also like to do a grounding exercise. I'll often do this on a walk or while I'm at home before I leave. I focus on my five senses. What can I see, hear, smell, taste, feel?

It helps bring me back to the present moment and recenter my mind before I walk into a potentially stressful environment. Another tool I love is my Vegas Nerve Stimulator. I have a sensate, but there are other options out there too. Vegas nerve stimulation has been a huge help for me. It helps lower my heart rate, regulate my breathing, and move my body out of that fight or flight state. Breathing is another simple but powerful tool. Instead of worrying about counting your breaths,

Which can cause anxiety in itself, pay attention to how you're breathing. Try taking slow, deep breaths that fill your tummy like a balloon, then slowly let the air back out. Sometimes placing a hand on your stomach can feel like a cue to your brain to slow down and stay in the moment. If I'm able to, I also give my body time to rest before my appointment. I've learned to think of this as being proactive instead of waiting until I'm already exhausted. Next I get dressed.

I recommend wearing comfortable clothes and dressing in layers. Medical offices can be unpredictable with temperature, and having the option to add or remove a layer can make a big difference. This is not the day I'm choosing fashion over comfort. I'm trying to remove as many unnecessary stressors from my body as possible. And before I leave, I grab my medical appointment, go big. Over the years, I've figured out a few things I always like to have with me.

It has extra headphones, sunglasses, gum, a portable fan, and lavender essential oil because I find the smell calming. Then I just add my ice cold water. Your go bag might look completely different, but think about the little things that make you feel more grounded. Maybe for example it's a certain scent, something cold, your favorite sweatshirt or a fidget. I like knowing that even though I can't control everything about the environment I'm walking into, I can bring a few things to help me feel more prepared.

With all that being said, one of the most important things I prepare before an appointment is my mindset.

For years, I walked into these appointments carrying the weight of comments like, You're a medical mystery, you're a complicated case, you're way too young to be dealing with this. Even when those comments weren't meant to be harmful, they made me feel like my situation was impossible to figure out. They made me wonder if anyone would ever have answers. And honestly, being told those things reinforced something I already struggled with growing up, feeling different from everyone around me.

The more I heard that my symptoms couldn't be explained, the more I believed there was something uniquely different about me and my body. But as I've gotten older and learned more about my body, I've realized I wasn't nearly as different or alone as I thought. One of the biggest examples of this happened when I was 21 and learned that I have HSD or HEDS. Suddenly so many symptoms and experiences that had felt random or mysterious for years started to make more sense.

Things that had once been explained to me as unusual were actually experiences that many other people with HSD or H E D S could relate to. I remember thinking, wait, other people experiences too? There was something really validating about that. It didn't take away from what I had been through, but it changed the way I looked at myself. Having that explanation was helpful, but I think the bigger realization was how many people could actually relate to what I had been experiencing.

Whether you have a diagnosis, you're still searching for answers, or you never get a perfect explanation for everything you're experiencing, you're a person navigating something difficult. Your experiences don't make you some impossible medical mystery. Words can stick with a person, and for a long time, I carry those words into every appointment. I put so much pressure on each one. I would go in thinking, this appointment has to go well. This doctor has to have the answer. I'll feel better soon.

And if it didn't go how I wanted, I felt completely crushed. There were times in my life when everything revolved around how the appointment went. Over time, I've learned that I can't put the weight of my entire future on one appointment. I can't control how a provider responds to me, what they know, or how they choose to communicate. What I can control is how I show up for myself and how I care for my body before, during, and after the appointment. So now, before I leave, I remind myself.

I am going to do the best I can today. I'll advocate for myself, I'll ask my questions, I'll be honest about what I'm experiencing. And I don't need to walk out of that appointment with every answer for it to have been worthwhile. That mindset has taken so much pressure off of me and given me a sense of peace no matter how things go.

If you're listening to this podcast, chances are you have felt overwhelmed trying to figure out chronic illness. I know I did. That's exactly why I created The Chronic Fighter, because no one should have to figure this out alone. At the chronicfighter.com, you'll find one-on-one coaching and a community designed to help teens, young adults, and parents navigate the challenges of chronic illness. My parents and I spent years trying to make sense of my health on our own, researching, connecting the dots.

Implementing lifestyle changes, advocating and searching for answers. Experts estimate that 80 to 90% of healthcare happens outside of the doctor's office. And that was certainly true of my experience. Growing up, I would have given anything to have someone who truly understood what I was going through. Someone to show me that I could work with my body and still build a meaningful life. Through one-on-one coaching, I helped bridge the gap between the doctor and patient.

Because managing chronic illness involves so much more than what happens during appointments. Together, we focus on symptom management, nervous system regulation, sustainable habits, and practical strategies that help you feel more in control of your health and your life. If coaching isn't the right fit right now, or you'd like support alongside it, the Chronic Fighter membership offers flexible access to tools, education, and a community of people who get it, without a rigid schedule or pressure to keep up.

No matter where you are on your health journey, I'd be honored to be a part of it. Visit the chronic fighter dot com to learn more.

Okay, now we're ready to go. As I'm making my way to the appointment, I'm continuing to keep my nervous system calm. Sometimes that's chewing gum. Studies suggest chewing gum may help reduce stress and anxiety. It also gives your brain additional sensory input, which can be grounding and help shift some of your attention away from anxious thoughts or physical sensations. I put my AirPods in and listen to my go to happy playlist and worship playlists. Music is one of the biggest ways I regulate my nervous system.

I listen on the drive there, and if I'm sitting in the waiting room, my headphones are usually stolen. A couple of years ago, during a very difficult season of my life, when I had undiagnosed Crohn's disease, one of my go-to songs was That's So True by Gracie Abrams. I honestly couldn't even tell you what it's about, but I would sing that song and picture myself overcoming another challenge. Last my life, I'm gonna hide ticking on my ears.

Then I would picture myself taking all the earrings, you know. I literally wore earrings to be able to show you, but you can barely see and I'm not gonna actually anyways, you get the point. I'm not a good singer, but I would visualize this. That song became my fight song. And over time hearing those familiar lyrics helped me retrain my brain and nervous system to respond differently to those medical experiences that had once been perceived as threats.

It became a small way to feel in control with a fighter mentality. Instead of I'm scared, I don't want to do this, it became, okay, we're doing this, I got this. As I head into the appointment, I try to make the environment feel as low stress on my body as possible. Cooling my body down helps a lot with regulation. I take out my ice cold water bottle and crank up the speed of my neck fan. And let's talk about what to do about that awful hospital lighting.

I don't know if the average healthy person going in for a routine checkup has ever thought twice about medical office lighting. But if you have chronic illness, I have a feeling you know exactly what I'm talking about. If you deal with migraines, light sensitivity, dysautonomia, chronic fatigue, or nervous system that's already on high alert, those bright lights can add even more sensory input when your body's already dealing with a lot. They can make headaches worse, increase dizziness, and trigger nausea. Because of the added stress those lights put on my body.

I used to wear sunglasses to the appointments. I've also asked doctors if they could dim the lights whenever possible. There were even times when I'd sit in the room in the dark while I waited. Again, not my cutest medical appointment look. It was pretty humbling. But right now we're prioritizing our nervous system here. If something small makes an appointment easier on your body, let yourself use it. Now comes check-in. And wait for it. Please give me your name and date of birth.

Time for filling out paperwork and going through the normal check in process. But instead of being completely blindsided by my body's response to these triggers, I can choose to recognize what's happening. My body remembers this. That doesn't mean something bad is happening right now. So I remind myself, I'm safe. This is a positive experience for me. Even if my body doesn't realize it, I will be okay. Sometimes your brain knows you're safe long before your nervous system believes it. And that's okay.

I keep gently reminding myself that I'm not in danger. I'm here because I'm taking care of myself. I continue listening to my favorite songs and think about how they make me feel. The nurse calls my name. Finally, appointment time. And here comes the question. So tell me what's been going on. I dread answering this. Here we go again with my entire life story. It's hard to even know where to begin. Do I start with what's happening today?

Do I explain everything that's happened over the last few years or decades? What if I forget something important? It felt like we were starting over every single time I had to meet with another doctor. When you've lived with chronic illness your whole life, your story isn't a two-minute answer. It's years of symptoms, diagnoses, medications, procedures, hospital visits, specialists, test results. Trying to organize all that while you're already anxious.

Sitting in a bright exam room with the clock ticking, it's a lot for anyone. And it's a whole nother level when you're doing this at your absolute lowest. One thing I've learned over the years though is that I don't have to be this perfect patient. I don't have to remember every symptom, ask every question perfectly, or have all the answers. If I need a minute to think before responding, I take it. If I don't feel heard, need help with something specific, or I'm feeling really anxious that day.

I advocate for myself and let my provider know. This appointment is about you, your health, and your well-being. If you have someone with you, ask them to remind you of those truths too. Sometimes hearing you're okay and you can take your time from someone you love can help regulate in your nervous system when it's difficult to do it yourself. Before I even go into the appointment, I like knowing I have something to look forward to afterwards. Maybe that's your favorite meal, a good show, or hanging out with friends.

My mom always took me to get asai bowls afterward. Such a treat. And eventually, the appointment wraps up. Maybe I got the answers I was hoping for, maybe I didn't. Either way, I've asked my questions, advocated for myself, and done what I can for the day. Now it's time to let the rest go.

Appointment done, we're back home. The appointment may be over, but that doesn't always mean my body realizes it's over. Sometimes my nervous system stays active long after I've walked out of the doctor's office. So when I get home, I try to not immediately jump back into everything I have to do. I give my body a chance to reset. For me, that usually looks like taking a shower, doing my skincare, eating a healthy meal, and of course cuddling with my dog Archie. They're simple things, but

They help signal to my body, we're home, time to relax and unwind. Your version of that might look completely different. Maybe you need to take a nap, put on your favorite show, eat something comforting, spend time with someone you love, or just have some quiet time. Whatever it is, think about what makes your body feel cared for after an appointment. And part of caring for myself afterwards is also about how I reflect on the appointment. For a long time I would leave focusing on everything that went wrong.

The answers I still didn't have are all the ways my body had struggled. I also spent a lot of time believing my body was betraying me because it wasn't doing what I wanted it to do. I worked really hard to change that perspective. Now, instead of ending the day frustrated with myself or my body, I try to recognize everything I did. I remind myself, my body isn't betraying me. It's trying to protect me. My body has carried me through so much. My body is capable of healing.

Adapting and doing incredible things. It can take time to change the way you think about a body that has put you through difficult things, but learning to appreciate my body instead of constantly fighting against it has changed so much for me. The last thing I want to leave you with is this always have hope. For me, that's my faith in God. It's stressing that even when I don't understand what's happening or why it's happening, He's still working and wants what's best for me.

My story isn't over. For you, maybe that's your faith, a higher power, or something else that gives you hope. Whatever that looks like for you, I think it's important to trust in something bigger than yourself. Because when everything depends on finding the right doctor, getting the right diagnosis, or finally finding something that helps, that's a lot of pressure to carry. It's easy to become so consumed by the battle right in front of you that you lose sight of everything else. I have been there. But please know

That one appointment doesn't determine your future. One setback doesn't mean you always feel that way. There is still so much life to be lived, even if it doesn't look the way you expected. When I look back on the lowest moments of my life, they all had one thing in common. I had lost hope. And that wasn't who I normally was. But when hope started to disappear, it became incredibly difficult to find the strength to keep going. So keep believing that better days are possible.

And be proud of yourself for showing up. Sometimes hope is what carries us until we can carry ourselves again. That's all for today's episode. I'll talk to you soon.

Thank you for listening to the Chronic Fighter Podcast. I am so grateful you're here. Whether you're navigating chronic illness yourself or learning how to support someone who is. I hope today's conversation resonated with you. Don't forget to follow us on social media at The Chronic Fighter Co. and the Chronic Fighter Pod, and check out our website at the Chronicfighter.com. Remember to celebrate the little wins and have something that gets you excited to get out of bed every day. I'll see you next time.