Life Under Scaffolding

So I have been busy lately barely holding onto a couple of freelance gigs and trying to get back to a normal level of activity. The problem is that I'm finding it really difficult to do.

A lot of people told me last year that the shock of cancer doesn't usually hit the patient fully until they are finished with treatment, and I think that's very true in my case. As long as I was treated, I was going to be fine. Now that I'm done with chemo and back to life, I have begun to suspect that every little physical ailment is a possible recurrence of the cancer, and this doesn't help my state of mind. Now that cancer is gone, I keep wondering: When will it come back?

I once read a very funny book about hypochondria, in which the self-diagnosed hypochondriac writer stated that his mental issues were cured once he discovered he had Hepatitis. Knowing the worst alleviated his fear that something was wrong with him. I have joked with several friends over the last year that maybe this would be true of me, and I may have even mentioned this on the blog before.

The problem is that cancer is different than other diseases. Just because it's cured, doesn't mean it's cured. Even the five year mark isn't the great sign of hope that it is for other cancers. Breast cancer can come back whenever it wants.

I saw a post on a breast cancer forum that was titled: "When every headache is a cancer metastasis ... " And I identify so much with that. I know in my head that I have wonderful, very good odds in my favor, but it doesn't stop me from worrying, every time something doesn't feel right, that I have come out on the bad end of those good odds.

What's worse, it doesn't stop doctors (except old faithful Dr. Hilliard my oncologist) from worrying either.

I had an abdominal ultrasound in the fall. Something didn't look quite right. So a nurse told me it "might be cancer" and my gynocologist sent me for blood work to try to rule out ovarian cancer. I worried, but of course everything turned out just fine.

I had a weird rash on my stomach two months ago, so I was sent to a dermatologist. It looked a bit like dry skin gone very bad, but what did the doctor do? A biopsy. Requiring one stitch. He also gave me ointment, of course, so the rash was gone in a matter of days--the scar and lump from the benign biopsy are still around.

Now I'm having tons of pain, most likely related to all the tissue expansion (one more fill!!) and stress that I carry in my face and shoulders, but in my head the hypochondriac is thinking the cancer has spread to my bones. I'm pretty sure that like the other two "alarms" since chemo, this one is going to turn out just fine.

But it doesn't stop me from googling "breast cancer metastasis to the bones" every night.

Plus the pain is making me tired, which doesn't help matters at all. But I'm discovering and rediscovering that Worry and Pain are very bad friends. Worry plus Pain plus Google ... they are like the kids in high school who ditch class and smoke after detention.

So, for the time being, I will attempt to keep Worry and Google at a distance. And I'll take another pill for Pain.