I have been trying to emotionally prepare for this date for weeks. After dropping Robby off at school this morning, I'll be driving to the hospital for a scheduled battery of tests. For cancer survivors, the tests are considered "routine," although when you are the one being tested, it feels anything but normal!
It doesn't matter
how many times I tell myself that I'm healthy because hearing it from
the doctors is paramount. Until that happens, I am prepared for
emotionally wrought and stress-filled days. I won't feel comfortable
again until I receive the confirmation that I have no signs of cancer. I
can't fathom hearing anything else, so I won't even entertain the
I detest undergoing these tests, but I
also know that I am lucky to receive thorough preventative care.
Although the wait is difficult, I've come to realize that there is no
security in not knowing. After all, my awareness of any issues will only
arm me with more tools to wage battle. Ignorance is like giving any
abnormal cells (the enemy) insider information to employ against my
I live most of my life without giving cancer much
thought. My diagnosis and treatment were part of my past and certainly
impacted the way in which I view the world, but I don't define myself by
those abnormal cells. Most days I draw strength from the knowledge that
I'm a Survivor. Today, as I'm preparing for the tests, I am reminded of
the fragility of health. For the first time in a long time, I feel
weak and vulnerable.
For now, I'm trying to focus on the
positive. I feel healthy and strong. Because I am having no symptoms, I am
trying to keep the tests in perspective: they are simply preventative,
to provide definitive confirmation that everything is okay. A belief
that everything will be okay, and perhaps a few cupcakes, will help me
get through the next few days.