The Good Cancer

I'm told that I have "the good cancer". I hate hearing that because no cancer is good. No one wants to be a cancer patient. But really I suppose it is the good cancer. It has a very high cure rate. The treatment typically doesn't involve chemo. It's even a slow growing cancer. I have two other survivor friends who endured far more in one day of their treatment than I have dealt with in the nearly 3 years since my diagnosis. I am alive. I am in remission. I am growing healthier and healthier. So what do I really have to be upset about? Rationally I know that this week is just something I have to do. I have to go through these tests every 6 months. It's just something I have to do...maintenance in my life. Sort of like changing your oil or your furnace filter. It's just a fact. I have no reason to expect that this will be anything but routine maintenance.

But yet, I was filled with anxiety this morning. Not over getting a shot in the butt. Not over worrying about pain or needles. Not anxiety over the rushing around that I have to do this week to accommodate all these trips to the hospital. I was anxious about cancer. All I had to do is hear the words "nuclear medicine" and my immediate reaction was a panic attack. My legs felt like jelly, I was dizzy and my heart was racing but somehow I was able to follow the nurse into the room to get my injection. I didn't really even feel it because at that point the room was spinning. I had to sit down so I didn't pass out. I had to let myself cry.

You see, it's not just about the test. It's the fact that having cancer has really made it hard for me to see the big picture realistically anymore. It's the worry over what the long term effects of all these tests and radiation and "nuclear medicine" will have on me. It's the worry that the results won't be "undetectable". It's the memories of having my neck sliced open twice. It's the memories of radiation isolation. Of being away from my kids. Of being alone. Of not being in control of what was happening to me. It's hard not to feel freaked out that they put something in my body that made me have to be quarantined for 2 weeks.

Luckily I was able to talk myself down. I was able to call my husband who is always steady and calming. This week will suck, but it's just maintenance. Next week, I know my doctor will call me and tell me that cancer cells were "undetectable" and we'll celebrate. And I won't have to deal with this for the next 6 months or hopefully even a year.

But I am wondering...when will this anxiety stop? It is after all, "the good cancer"...what's there to worry about?

Currently reading :  Gods in Alabama  By Joshilyn Jackson