I didn’t coin this term, but it is the anxiety that ramps up prior to the next CT scan to check on the progression, or not, of cancer. Mine is scheduled for Monday; today is Saturday, so the anxiety is already there no matter how I try to minimize it. There is the hope that the tumors have reduced in size since the last scan; and the fear that they didn’t. If they did, then all is well, but if they didn’t, then what’s next? I admit to not only anxiety, but a little depression, too. It’s difficult to keep a positive focus all the time, and I occasionally find myself almost reduced to tears. And the anger; can’t forget the anger. Those emotions are all kin to each other and feed off each other and make each other worse. And I know it’s a downward spiral and hard to stop once it gains momentum, so I can’t let it gain momentum and usually don’t.

And on a related note, the more I read in journals and from other lung cancer patients on support sites, the more I feel overloaded.  My brain races a mile a minute at times, and I find it hard to slow it down. So many options that depend on so many different things. Since I am the one responsible for my care then I must be the one to be aware of what’s available. I trust my Oncologist and my treatment team, but I still need to be able to have an intelligent discussion about available treatments, clinical trials, and the latest new treatment coming up on the horizon. It’s exhausting. Sometimes I wonder if my parents’ generation was right in always deferring to the doctor. And they didn’t have access to all the research out there on the internet. Maybe ignorance really is bliss. But as soon as I have that thought, I get rid of it. The information is out there, and I should be able to read it and understand it and be able to discuss it with my team members. So I just keep on going the best I can and trust that all will be well.