Cancer is invasive in so many ways

Today I went to the doctor to discuss some issues I've been dealing with for over a year. Honestly, by the time I got there today I was completely torqued up and absolutely convinced I had cancer. I was completely exhausted yesterday, but sleeping last night wasn't much of an option until I'd stayed up so late that I was positively ill.

Jim died over two years ago, but to me, the cancer is still so invasive in my life. If I have an internal pang, gurgle or lump, I FREAK. Now, to be fair - I was a bit of a hypochondriac to begin with. I have recognized most of my illnesses over the last two years to be largely psychosomatic. I finally called the doctor last week when I realized that what I'm dealing with is in fact not psychosomatic. Never before Jim would cancer have entered into my mind.

My friend Reid stayed up and chatted with me last night because I was freaking so badly. Reid has a great sense of humor - he can always get me to laugh. He told me not to listen to my brain - it's nuts. Which we all know to be true. This morning he tried to tell me that again and get me to laugh, but I was so uptight that I got angry and told him that my brain isn't nuts - it's experienced. Logic tells me that anything going on in my body is not related to cancer. But my brain takes that word and twists it.
Logic: You don't have cancer. That's a swollen lymph node.
Brain: WHY WOULD YOU HAVE A SWOLLEN LYMPH NODE IN YOUR ABDOMEN?!?!?!?

Logic: That could mean anything. It's probably swollen from you poking at it.
Brain: Or, it could be just the tip of the iceberg. That's probably the only part you can feel of a tumor that has spread. You know they call colon cancer the silent killer.

Logic: The odds are really against you having cancer of any sort. You don't have a family history and you're only 37.
Brain: Um, DUH, Jim didn't have a family history and he was only 37!

Logic: You just got checked two months ago and they didn't find anything unusual.
Brain: You won't be able to handle chemo. Your kids will be without any parents. You can't do it. Come to think of it, you haven't gone to the bathroom in a couple of days. Is that a sign of a blockage?

...Logic never wins these internal arguments. Ever. And these arguments go on all day long, every day I think I have a health scare.

And I claim that I was crazy when I lived in Charlotte? It's not Kohler that's making me crazy, it's cancer. Today the doctor put my mind at ease. She offered me an ultrasound, not because I need it medically but because she knew it might be the only thing that quiets my brain. She told me that if I'm losing sleep over it, I should call her and we'll do the ultrasound. ~ Trust me ~ I'm losing sleep over it. But I decided not to get the ultrasound for now. I might call and beg her for it next week. But today I decided that cancer is getting the best of me if I let it dictate my every thought and action. If I let cancer dictate when I should worry or when I get a medical test, I'm letting cancer continue to ruin my life. Cancer took away what was most important to me. At the time I was so angry and I screamed at cancer and told it that it would never beat us. I still don't want cancer to beat us. I don't think it will.

I reclaim my brain from the thoughts that infect it, even if I have to do it moment to moment. Cancer - now hear this: you don't get to control my thoughts. I do. I won't have the ultrasound just because you try and scare me. I will listen to the professionals, try and take care of myself, and know that the odds are against you, cancer. It's only a matter of time before we'll all be inoculated against you. Until then, keep your invasive, noxious thoughts to yourself.