I came across this the other day whilst thinking about scanxiety, and at first I thought, hey yeah, that’s cool. But then I thought, hey wait a minute.
I agree with the bit that talks about the things that cause our anxiety have already happened (so saying not to worry about things that will never happen obviously does not work here). And I agree with the part that says it’s about remembering. Because it did happen to me. Again and then again. So you know, why wouldn’t it happen yet again?
Which brings me to the part I disagree with “it’s not so much about worrying.” Sorry, for me it’s TOTALLY about worrying. And fretting, and second-guessing, and hoping, and regretting, and even panicking. Hey, it happened before, it can happen again. Why is that so hard to understand? And all those well meaning people who say “Don’t worry, you’ll be fine”… I kind of wish they wouldn’t say that. I know it’s not meant as such but it feels a bit like being given the brush off. That I am worrying about nothing. Really? If your cancer came back twice would you honestly and truly believe it would never come back again? That there is nothing to worry about? Think again.
So what’s the best thing to say to someone terrified about the possible outcome of yet another PET scan? Well, how about whatever is real for you? That you have no idea what I’m going through but you are hoping for the best. That you will get on the next plane if it all goes tits up. That you’ve been through this yourself and it’s totally shit and you’ll be waiting for me on the other side of the results. And even that you care a lot but simply don’t know what to say – that’s all totally okay and also totally understandable.
But please don’t tell me not to worry. Or that of course I will be okay. Though in fact, it turns out I am okay this time, at least for now. Yesterday’s PET scan was ALL CLEAR. And I’m still processing this. It will take a few days before I allow myself to feel all that happy relief. Or rather, I will dole it out bit by bit… once you have almost died you learn to savour things, so this happy joy of once again dodging a cancer bullet should keep me going until at least Christmas. After that, it will be life as usual again. Or at least as usual as it ever is for cancer survivors. Hey, thanks for listening. xx
So dammit! Years ago I used to run almost every morning. It was the only aerobic exercise that I enjoyed. Then when I reached 40 my lower back and hips gave out, so I had to stop. And so I bought a bicycle and took regular jaunts along the river (though it actually felt like more exercise lugging the thing up and down three long flights of stairs). More recently I’ve taken to riding the recumbent bike at the gym, where I actually get a good sweat going, usually riding for about an hour.
casa azahar 