I have scans soon. Day after tomorrow. Been a while since I had a scan double-header. I am not sweating the small stuff, like what time and where I will finally get to eat lunch on scan day (I fast before the CT scan, but have the MRI immediately after, so I may or may not get a chance to eat in between). Usually I get through the last day or two before a scan thinking only of these trivial things.
But something got tripped, a switch got flipped, and I’ve been anxious for days. I’m not sure exactly what it is that changed since last time.
It may be that it has started to sink in that I’ve had a long run of good luck on my meds, and that luck may not be infinite. It may be that I’m finally emerging as a less self-involved cancer patient, and once my eyes opened to the plight of others, they stayed open. (No more sleepwalking through Cancerland!)
Yesterday, for much of the day, I was paralyzed by these thoughts. Today, I was fairly flattened by them. Today brought an email from a correspondent of mine from across the ocean, who has been traversing a similar path, and who found me through my writing here. She is a lovely, spirited and funny young woman, who has also had to fight off melanoma multiple times since the age of 15. I have so much respect and admiration for her. And now, she has all of my healing thoughts, and prayers too, after some recent bad news.
I’d summon all the pharmaceutical powers that be, if I had that kind of influence, to throw everything we know at her disease and make it be gone for good. I’m thinking of you, my friend. I’m pulling for you. I can still pull harder.
2 thoughts on “Scanxious”
I never knew what you really are before I came to your blog. It has been a good learning for me. I admire your special sense of humor and your inner strength and style. Most of us just go through life never even addressing the fundamental question of our mortality. By letting me read your blog, you have given me a little access to your personal journey of trials and turbulence. I am thankful for that. It gives me a reality check every time I read your blog. Thank you, my friend. I send my best to your friend who is struggling right now and my love and good thoughts to you, my scan-anxious friend.
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Thank you, Bindu. (The fact is that perhaps I too never knew what I was before I started writing here!)