The summer before I was diagnosed, I began to do things that I was always a bit afraid to do. Roller coasters, swimming and tubing were on my list. Some little obsessive fears came along for the ride too. At the forefront was the brain eating amoeba. That made for some craziness with tubing. “Don’t let the water touch your face” I constantly yelled to my kids. I have boys. They listen as well as cats do. That was the summer of flesh eating bacteria at the southern parts of the Jersey Shore. No one was going wave running in the bay and there were showers immediately upon walking in off the beach. Then came cancer.
Before surgery, I obsessed on whether or not I could feel Felicia, was she growing, was she moving. Did the multiple puncture biopsy send out little minions of doom throughout my body as they broke free from the procedure? I obsessed on not waking up from the operation, not that I would know, right?
During chemotherapy, I obsessed on keeping my house germ free and staying as healthy as I could. All could do was clean, eat well and rest. Nothing else was allowed to boost health or immune system. Supplements would have been counterproductive. I worried about my heart as the protocol was extremely harsh yet effective. I worried about my teeth because they can take a bad hit with chemo. I got through relatively easily, carrying on obsessively.
I worried about recurrence when I completed chemo and continued on with my targeted therapies. Any ache or discomfort would have me on the phone with my oncology team.
During my treatment, I saw a doctor minimally each month. I’ve been done since January 15. I had appointments scheduled all over the place each month with different members of my oncology team. And then we got slammed with Covid-19. No more appointments for me, instead, now I get something else to obsess on.
Welcome back anxiety, can’t say that I’ve missed ya! Fortunately, we are all home. The husband ventures out minimally for food shopping once every two weeks and then take out twice per week. That’s about all I can handle. We have a system that works for us and he understands my fears and does whatever he can to help minimize exposures for me. Walking outside when there are others around scares me. I’m not gonna lie. I literally hold my breath and walk clear to the other side of the road and stay as far as I can from people. I am beginning to wonder if I should just wear a mask outside. Perhaps it is overkill, who knows. For now, my stresses are magnified as I have the whole cancer world combined with COVID-19.
Even though I don’t see members of my medical team, they are in my thoughts. I worry about them and their safety. They are important to me and I can honestly say that they’ve become a part of who I am. That adds a different dimension to my stress. The thought of something happening to them during the pandemic scares me greatly.
I don’t think we, as cancer survivors, every really leave that world behind. To have recently completed treatment and step foot into this new reality of pandemics is traumatic. I don’t really think anyone but another survivor can truly understand this. I consciously make decisions throughout the day to occupy my mind with things that bring me peace, whether it be painting, photography, writing or reiki, it all helps. I think the key to getting through this quarantine life is to accept new challenges and twist them into something that can work for me. Whatever this next month brings, I know I can handle it. I’ve gotten through my fears of
swimming, roller coasters and brain eating amoebas, while enjoying myself. I’ve gotten through 17 months of cancer treatments without losing my mind. This too, shall pass.
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