Dealing with Scanxiety and the Hard Hits Associated with Cancer

Scanxiety – a feeling I never knew or understood until I was diagnosed with cancer.

I know I discussed scanxiety in a previous post, but I think even then I was hopeful that it was a feeling that would dissipate.  I’m slowly learning that it is yet another side effect of cancer.  It’s a feeling I struggle with, and then attempt to bury deep away.  That is until 6 months pass by, and suddenly it’s time for another mammogram.  It all resurfaces.

This week’s mammogram was my second one following treatment.  It’s amazing to me how a place that became so familiar to me, that I visited almost daily for an extended period of time, could create such anxiety in a follow up visit.  I felt complete dread with each step I took closer to the building.  I gave myself little pep talks the whole way into the door.  Yet I could not put myself at ease.  Please Lord, I can’t go through it all again.

Somehow, like all cancer survivors, I managed to muddle through it.  The new radiologist had nothing to say to me, other than simply, “Everything looks fine.”  I still have a hard time trusting this radiologist, as he was not involved in my care throughout the course of my diagnosis and treatment.  I’m sure he’s good at his job, but he doesn’t know me, and I don’t know him.  I just have to take his word for it.

And so the trend continues – most of the doctors who comprised my team of direct care are now gone.  Most of them moved on to different opportunities.  Except for one.  My surgeon – the doctor who changed everything for me.  I knew I was in great hands with her, and I loved having her as my guide through the process.  I recently learned that she passed away.  From cancer.  I can’t express how much of a hard hit this was to me.  It completely saddened me.  Angered me.  Scared me.  She saved me, yet not even a year later, she lost her own battle with cancer.  The irony is suffocating.

When I was under her care, I had absolutely no idea that she herself was facing the enemy.  I had a strictly professional relationship with my doctor, yet I have shed so many tears over her loss.  She was an accomplished woman who touched many lives during their greatest time of need.  I hope she knew how much of a difference she made.  She was a blessing bestowed upon me, and I am forever grateful for her.

I read in her obituary that she had an unending love for minions.  I have no idea how to honor a woman who played such a significant role in my life, but I’m hoping this would bring her a smile.

Thanks Doc, for being “one in a minion.”  You will be greatly missed.