Why Cancer Anxiety Brain Gotta Be So Rough…

This morning I read an article in Coping magazine titled How to Embrace Living While Coping with Thoughts about Dying.

I’ve recently had two new symptoms that might indicate my cancer has recurred. They might also be totally unconnected. The only way to know for sure is a CT Scan, which my oncologist ordered on Friday, Feb. 7th. She wanted the scan done that day, before I left her office. Her sense of urgency both reassured me I was getting thorough care AND kinda freaked me out a little because it means that, yeah, the cancer might be back.

Insurance didn’t want to say yes.

I was sent home with the plan being first thing I’d go to my local radiology center for a CT Scan as soon as it was approved. And the reassurance from my doctor that they would do what they needed to do to get it approved. First thing Monday the approval came in, but at the oncologists hospital 91 miles away. I spoke with her office coordinator who is great and kind and you can tell she cares.

First thing the next day she called with news it had that approval had been updated for my local facility. “Go ahead and call them right now to schedule.”

So I called.

They didn’t have any orders for my scan. The gal on the phone promised they’d call me as soon as those orders came in.

They never called all week.

Yes, I know I should have called back to let them know something wasn’t working as needed.

Instead I shut down.

I found myself getting lost in the overwhelm of these new symptoms and fear about what the scan might show and fear about what if the new scan doesn’t get approved and, of course, renewed fear about dying from this cancer.

I am not at peace with dying.

Being raised in a high control religion that is works based can fuck up a kids’ head. It sure fucked mine up anyway.

Not gonna lie, I’m pretty terrified at the thought of dying.

So when the mid-month LMSDR.org newsletter showed up and had this article linked inside, I was in a place of needing some comfort, some support when I click ‘read more’…

Thought I’d share some of what supported me with you, in case it can somehow bring you some support and comfort too:

“Thoughts about your own mortality are scary. And normal.”

Sometimes what we need most is simply to be heard, be witnessed, be acknowledged where we’re at. The above quote did that for me because even though my logic knew this, my anxiety and fear struggle to hold this truth.

Isn’t it kinda bizarre how we can know something but anxiety can override that knowing?

Like, why brain? Why you gotta run ahead to the worst case scenario every.damn.time? Can’t you wait to freak out till we get our scan results back?

Can you please just chill, brain?!?

“Life can feel random. That’s because it kind of is. There are no guarantees in life. Nobody understands that better than someone who is living with a cancer diagnosis. You didn’t plan for it, but it happened anyway – like a lot of what goes on in life. However, finding out you have cancer is not the same as getting a flat tire. The stakes are a lot higher. And the questions that arise are a whole lot bigger. Like questions about your mortality.”

I’m not a fan of random when it comes to the potential ravages of cancer. I’d rather have random when it comes to things like, “wow, how random that I won the lottery the one and only time I bought a ticket!”, or “hmm, it’s so random that my back no longer hurts at all, but also really rad!”

But random like “your cancer is back and this time it’s inoperable and you’ve only got 3 months to live” is the kind of random my anxiety went straight to this week.

Again, why brain?…

How about my brain latches onto something like, “it’s so random that after your first occurrence of cancer it never came back and your overall health improved and you lived well into your 90s”…

Think of it as being a step ahead. At some point, we’re all going to be thinking about our mortality. Being diagnosed with cancer just may push you in that direction a lot earlier in life than someone who hasn’t faced a life-threatening medical diagnosis. That’s not necessarily a good thing or a bad thing. But I do think a cancer diagnosis is an opportunity to gain wisdom about life – including the awareness that life is not guaranteed. Look at it this way: We all come to a point in life where we accept that we won’t live forever. Some of us come to that acceptance sooner than others. That’s called wisdom.”

This part was cool.

I’ve long been a fan of turning suffering into wisdom and letting that wisdom help others. So, yeah, I dug this reminder about what this diagnosis is offering to me along with fear: wisdom.

After reading the article I messaged my oncologist about the scan. Tomorrow I’ll do my best to make that phone call to their office, anxiety or not. Hopefully, the scan will happen in a day or two AND hopefully it’ll still be NED, which in cancer speak means No Evidence of Disease.

Hopefully.

There was more good stuff in that article. Here’s a link to it in case you’d like to read it too.

Thanks for reading.

Love,

Kat