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No Scanxiety!

I don’t know exactly why, but it’s that time of the year again, and I have no anxiety about going back to the cancer center for scans.

Tis the season to be scanning! Last month Tommie and I drove down to UVA for follow-up brain scans to see how his tumor, Malfoy, was doing. It was the first time we’d take a look since he was diagnosed in the fall. And, as hoped, Malfoy was the half the size. The doctor also figured a way to titrate Tommie’s medication so that he could continue to fight the tumor without feeling side effects, and my hubby is now starting to experience that superhuman strength I discovered when we took the bastard primary tumor off of my pancreas. Huzzah!

I have a couple theories on why I’m not worried about my scans next week. First, I feel amazing. You wouldn’t believe the crazy sh-t my trainer James has me do in the gym. I can do everything he throws at me, and I leave feeling energized. How sick can I be if I can do thirty-six pushups with my feet on a large ball and climb hills on a spinner bike between sets?

My other thought is that by fully making the switch from musician to writer I’ve taken away the last link to the time I was diagnosed with cancer. Tommie and I went to see the musical Hairspray in January, and I literally bawled the entire time. Music is like a gateway drug to that horrible Cancer World, because I was immersed in music when I was immersed in cancer. So, at least for now, Music is dead to me. Pfft. I spit on it!

Normally about a week or so ago I would have started fretting. I would have not been able to do anything productive other than play Sudoku. But the scanxiety hasn’t come. I sent off an article and a side bar to the editor of Whole Life Times on Wednesday, and I’m working on two articles with side bars for the Washington Post Express. I’m mentally sharp, and I’m motivated to research and write despite looming scans next week.

One doctor said that he treats patients, not scans. No matter what the scans show next week, how sick can I be? I’ve said it before, but it remains true: I’ve never felt better! I’ll deal with whatever the doc tells me when I get the results on Wednesday. Then I’ll go back to the gym Thursday morning and tackle whatever insane challenge James throws my way with a maniacal smile on my face. Creepy, but true.

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