Wednesday, October 5, 2011

Scanxiety

My body and soul have not taken a deep breath in weeks.  I have been avoiding the thought of October 6th with everything in me. I am working hard to push back the fears.  I am hearing conversations in my head I never want to hear said out loud. 

It is "scanxiety".  The term used by cancer parents to describe the universal experience we face every time doctors peer into the bodies of our cancer warriors.  It does not matter if they finished treatment yesterday or five years ago, the feelings are the same.  What does it look like?
  • we find ourselves awkwardly impatient and short with each other, especially the kids- 'parental guilt' takes on a whole new meaning
  • we pick fights about non-issues to release some of the pressure
  • we take the time to really reflect at how far we've come and how gracious our God has been
  • we cry when we least expect it
  • we thank God for the gift of these past few months of NED days and the simple joys we were given as a family
  • we prepare ourselves mentally to face the day... whatever may come
  • we crave praise music and time in God's Word with the same intensity we crave oxygen
  • we wrestle daily with the demons... the what-ifs, the fears, the fate of those who've gone before us
  • we ponder the numbers... the chance of relapse, the duration from the end of treatment to relapse, the possibilities of other complications, the options
  • we can't help but be hyper-sensitive to physical symptoms and what they might indicate.  Never again will there be 'just a fever', 'just a pain', or 'just an illness'
  • we weigh the side effects of every past and future treatment, drug, scan, or test.  With cancer you go to the end limits of 'normal exposure' and then jump off the cliff.  Now we just try to juggle it all and pray that in 'scanning safer' we aren't missing anything.
  • sometimes we just sit in the silence and be because we don't want to say aloud what we both know the other is thinking
  • we remember all those who have relapsed and the tremendous battles they have faced or for some the helpless words "there is nothing more we can do" and we continue to work for more research
  • we linger a little longer, hug a little tighter, read one more story, and take one more glance
  • we feel the burdens of those still in the trenches fighting for their lives with an even greater intensity
  • we remember our friends in the battle whose lives have been cut way too short
  • we find ourselves daily having to lay it all down again and accepting God's grace for today alone.

Tomorrow is Scan Day..

4 comments:

V. Higgins said...

Praying for you all, Julia's story has touched me and I'll never look at cancer the same way again.

sdigerolamo said...

You have summed up Scanxiety perfectly. Scanxiety is very real.. it is like Russian Roulette - you don't know if you will be able to breathe again or if your world will be crushed in a single moment.
I am hoping you heard good news today.
Love you,
Sarah, Vinny and family

Cari said...

Praying for you, Julia and your family. May the Lord hold you near as you draw
ever closer to Him.
Love cari.

Barb Cole said...

Praying for you! I will be with you in spirit all day.