Thursday, September 6, 2018

Nothing

Anyone who has any sort of health crisis, whether acute or chronic, knows that once something serious happens, it’s hard to get back to the point where ‘it’s’ nothing. It’s always nothing, until it’s something.

And once something occurs, you’re never comfortable accepting that ‘it’s probably nothing.’

Yet, it really might be nothing.

Except when it’s something.

Honestly, nothing is going on with me. I’m fine. I just think about all that could be happening inside my body now that I’m six months out from chemo and all the poison is probably out of my system. As long as the chemo was still coursing through my veins, I could take comfort in knowing it was killing any residual cancer cells that might be thinking about growing again. But…the chemo is gone. And cancer grew once. Why should I believe that it won’t grow again?

I know these are the ramblings of the paranoid. I know this. I should trust my doctors and know that they’ll keep an eye on me.

But only I am there at midnight when Leftie is feeling weird. I’m the only one who aches from not being active enough and yet wonders if maybe those aches mean more than just getting older and being fat and lazy. I am the only one there to think about my girls and how no one, not even their lovely father, will ever love them like I do and what if the cancer comes back and we don’t catch it in time and I lose this battle that started last year? My doctors aren’t here every minute of every day. And honestly, I don’t want to bother with them with things that are probably nothing.

Except they might be something. And since I’ve experienced ‘something’ I worry.

Maybe I need to see a therapist. Maybe I have PSTD from everything that’s happened in the past year.

Maybe I need to just chill and be grateful that I am still here and know that if there is more to this battle, I will fight it with everything I have, until I have nothing left, if necessary.

1 comment:

Julie said...

I totally get this and it's one of the reasons I didn't have more kids but I worry A LOT about my heart and what's going on in there. Maybe a talk with a doctor wouldn't be such a bad idea or even joining a survivor's group. I'm also here to listen.