talkingaboutcancer.com

As anyone with cancer knows, regular scans and blood tests are a way of life.  They can be viewed as a lifeline or as a curse.  Results from blood work, X-rays, CT Scans, MRI’s, Bone Scans, etc. can tell you whether your cancer is progressing or not, or they can be frustratingly inconclusive.  They are a huge source of “scanxiety”.

I’ve written before about the nervousness I felt coming up to my annual PSA blood tests after my initial diagnosis and treatment and how, just as I was getting used to hearing “undetectable”, my cancer recurred.  Since that time, my cancer has metastasized and scans and tests are now all about how fast it is spreading and all the nasty things that go with that.

Just to keep things interesting, over the past couple of months I have developed a severe pain in my right sacrum area that feels and behaves suspiciously like a new metastasis.  My oncologist arranged for me to have a bone scan and an X-ray and I found myself worrying a lot about what they might show.  It was as if I was waiting for the other shoe to drop, so to speak.  The scared little boy side of me was preparing for bad news yet again, while the rational side of me knew that it didn’t really matter what the scans showed. When they came back clear, I was pleased, although it left me wondering what it is that is causing such sublimely excruciating pain.

I did, however, learn a very valuable lesson from this latest little drama.  I had assumed that the scans and tests would become “routine” for me after a while, given that I knew the cancer was there and that it would eventually spread.  But I’ve come to realize that there is always going to be something to worry about. Regular scans are going to be a part of my life from here on in whether I like it or not.  But I do have a choice.  I can choose to worry over every new little (or big) pain that comes my way, or I can choose to accept that there will be a lot of other shoes dropping and stop freaking out over it.  The uncertainty around how fast it will spread may translate into how many good years I have but, ultimately, I can’t do much about it.  My psychologist has pointed out several times that it would be very sad if I spent the rest of my years worrying about how many years I had left.  This past experience had helped me to really see the truth of that in a way that empowers me to make that choice.

I am a worrier at heart, but I don’t want that to be my guiding life principle.  I have the power to choose to live in peace with my illness and I will do that.

I choose simply to live.

Posted by Doug

1 Comment »