The Scanxiety Post
There's more to this little cliche than you might think
I’ve been a bit mentally paralyzed these past few days. This morning I had an MRI exam (more on that later) and it wasn’t til it had passed that I realized how paralyzing the whole thing had been.
I should know better.
If there’s one thing that I’ve learned over the last 14 years of dealing with cancer is that nothing unleashes anxiety like the great unknown. Cancer is a vast ocean of unknowns that begins from the early pre-cancerous days and continues through to survivor
ship — or wherever the hell I am these days. From early on, you are swimming in a sea of questions: Is it cancer? Is it bad? Can I treat it? Do I have to treat it? What are treatment options? Do they work? And, always, lurking beneath the choppy water, the big question: how many years?
On TV, cancer diagnosis and survivorship is portrayed as some kind of black and white, clear cut path. He’s got six months. He’s cured. Nothing in between. Anyone swimming in these seas knows that’s never the case.
And as you move forward, the ocean may calm, but there’s always a wave of uncertainty working it’s way off in the distance and headed toward you. If it only were as easy as simply riding that wave til it breaks. But often there are just too many coming at once, and it can drag you under - metaphorically speaking, or course.
I’ve had CT scans, PET Scans, bone marrow biopsies, enough blood taken to keep a small vampire satisfied - and all of these come with results and anxiety. What will the tests say? What are my options? How many years?
They call it scanxiety and it’s a neat little shorthand for all that comes with it. But the pre-scan paralysis this time as a bit more exaggerated than in previous times, and maybe that’s because we’re now checking my prostate and not just my lymph system.
In a month, I’ll be doing two-year staging PET/CT scans as I hit my two-year post-stem-cell-transplant birthday. And I’m feeling good - so much so that the little wave of anxiety that’s forming out on the horizon is within my view but not in my window of worry.
But the idea of having to do an MIR scan for my prostate due to an elevated PSA level, and embarking on a new process that included some mildy unpleasant prep, and a mildly claustrophobic procedure, it kind of put me into a bit of walking dead mode this past weekend.
The weather didn’t help much, but even the thought of opening up my laptop and attempting to string a few words together seemed to require exponentially more energy than I had. Food was blander than usual. Sweets and comfort food were mandatory. Doing projects was implausible. Even our favorite shows on TV were more annoying than they were entertaining. It’s as if my brain couldn’t engage for those few days because it was busy checking out the coming waves.
Once the scan was done, and I ad a post-test cup of coffee and sandwich, everything was calm. We’ll see where this test takes me when the results come in; the usual course is to biopsy to see if it is indeed prostate cancer, and if so, what type. There are a number of things it can be that is not prostate cancer, and at least 1 or 2 theories that could explain the elevated PSA. But we’ll cross that ocean when the time comes.
For now, I’m sitting by the fire on a frigid New England day, with a little music on record player, and banging out a few words, happy that my mind feels free again, and ready to ride the next wave.
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