Friday I woke up knowing that at 10am I would have my full body (chest, abdomen, pelvis) CT scan. This scan would detect any cancer in my organs from basically my neck to my knees. It doesn't detect bone cancer or brain cancer but liver, pancreas, kidney, lung, chest...you get the point. Because of the damage my right lung sustained from radiation, we need to keep watch and my doctor being empathetic thought that he would just test the body because he wanted to ease my mind....or...catch something early.
The truth about catching it early is that studies have shown it doesn't tend to influence survival times but at least there's time to assess and plan.
Anyway. The stress of Christmas, my cancerversary and memories of last year at this time, plus feeling the added pressure of wanting to make every memory perfect for my kids is a lot and I have been tired. It's a mental exhaustion and it's real. The thing is, as I've said many times before....no one knows how long they have to live. People die tragically everyday. Cancer is particularly savage. If I let it get a hold of me, I'd wonder how much time I had left everyday, wasting the time worrying or fearing if I'm doing enough with my kids. If I'm being maximum Mom. If I let the reality of a future filled with tests and montioring get to me I'd be paralyzed by the thought of living always in the space between alive and dead.
Friday morning when I woke up I made a choice. I'm going for a run. I'm going to run to the hospital, it's not far from our home. Ironically we bought a house that's literally walking distance to one of the best cancer centers in the country. I did a loop. While I was running I was imagining my immune system and the macrophages that gobble up intruders searching my body for cancer like little t-rex and eating them. As I run, I call on my spirit animals and guides as directed to me by my Shaman. It's been 4 months since my active treatment stopped but I'm still on hormone therapy which causes muscle and bone soreness. A 4.5k run at a pace of 6.5km/hr is impressive for someone who hasn't gone through chemo and rads and therapy and the amputation of breasts and part of a body system.
I mention this not to brag, I'm saying it because it's not my body running. It's my heart and mind. My body does hurt when I run, not so much I need to stop but so much that I need to remind myself that strength is built through adversity and nothing that builds and grows comes easily. If you think about the things that matter, that count, that work...they all require some level of pushing past the point of comfort.
I went for a run to show myself that I can push past the discomfort and put my present and my life today before what might come tomorrow.
Then I went for my scan. I showed up at the Hosptial which is on FULL lockdown. Line ups galore. They wont let you wear your own mask. They're very serious about monitoring you for symptoms. Looking at you in the eye, sizing you up, slowing trying to see if you cough when you answer, if you look unwell. It's tough for a cancer hospital though, most people fit all those catagories. So screening is even more time consuming.
Last week a cancer patient died of COVID because a nurse contracted it. Since then it's been an even more serious environment. We fear this virus. More so than one can imagine. What a shit fucking deal it would be to go through all that cancer treatment just to die from COVID. But that's the thing. Again, no one knows when your time is up. So....I sat in the watiting room and chatted with a lady who was on a clinical trial for lymphoma, who was there for her annual scan. She told me about her years of treatment and the various surgeries she's had and so on....I realized that once you've had cancer you are never the same. You belong to an unfortunate tribe.
I had the CT. Standard. You lay on the table, they do a quick pass. In and out of the machine. Then they inject the radioactive dye, it feels like you pee your pants and they do a few more passes. The equivalent of over 800 x-rays in 2 minutes. And then you go home.
I jogged home. Fuck cancer. It's not stealing my life from me. I imagined my t-rex's (or is it t-rexi?) anyway. I pictured my body resilient as I ran home. Scan done. Now we wait.
This is where cancer is particularly cruel. Since Friday I push the thoughts out of my head. I imagine a negative result. I imagine living a long life but I know when I see "No Caller ID" on my phone I'll get those results and my life hangs in the balance. This is the purgatory now.
I'm in the in between. Yesterday I drank a bunch of eggnog, and ate thai take out. I wanted to just eat and drink and be merry. I wanted to forget.
My therapist tells me it's unhealthy behaviour. I'm enrolled in a Cognitive Behavioral Group every Wed from 10-1130 where I and 9 other people with cancer discuss anxiety and coping techniques and talk about life. It's been helpful but being me....I'm hard to change. Suggestions to deep breathe, analyze and change our internal wiring. It's tough. It's a mental game now.
So here I am Saturday night. Still days until I get the call with the results. Sitting in between life and death. That's what Dante described as the ulitmate punishment. At least when you're in hell you know you're there. When you're in heaven you know where you are. When you're in between you have little to no control. That's where I sit now.
I choose to instead of feeling like I have no control, to envision a life of heavenly delights. Future with my children, light and love. But damn it....it's tough.
For those of you who've had a covid test imagine that feeling, the waiting times about a thousand. In the days you wait...you can only hold one thought in your mind at a time. A positive one or a negative one.
Quoting my mother "I'm positive it'll be negative".
It'll be a few days before I receive my results....so I wait. Thinking the best.
So tonight I imagine a long life. Good results.
Life is a mental game we play. The physical follows the mental. Think about what you want. Feel it inside like it's already happened.
I imagine sitting next week with a margarita and a taco celebrating a year of conquering cancer and many of the same ahead.
Hold this in your mind for me. Imagine it. Believe it.
Life is what we create in our minds and we will our body to produce.
Purgatory is only as miserable as we make it. Tonight I choose joy and positivity. I am cancer free. This will be confirmed this week.
Stay tuned.
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