Scareditude
I sit here on a Saturday morning, as of my writing this, awaiting the results of my three-month blood labs. I do it knowing that not long ago I hit seven years since my bone marrow transplant and remission. That's a lot longer than I expected.
I've already received my CBC and CMP results, which aren't perfect but consistent with past results. Yet, there is a cloud of uneasiness hanging over my head. My last immunoglobulin and Kappa/Gamma measurements were not consistent with past results. What will they show this time? Nothing, a trend, or worse news?
I'm feeling scared
How will I deal with bad results? Will I have the stiff upper lip I did the first time, or melt into a puddle of dread? I suspect the former, but I am not totally convinced it won't be the latter.
I have to admit I'm a little scared. This happens every three months.
What helps me navigate fear
So, how do I adjust my mind and frame of reference? I leash up my walking buddy and reluctant service dog, Fynn, and head out for a 3-mile hike through the woods on a crisp morning.
The chill in the air gets our blood pumping as we pick up the pace. Fynn likes to go as fast as possible. My attitude immediately starts changing. I look at Fynn and realize how thankful I am for his companionship; I think of my wife of 45 years, my children, and my two granddaughters, who were both born in the past seven years.
My mind then moves to my recent retirement, the successful career I was able to finish, the trips we have planned to see the world in the next year or two, and how the next chapter of the new book I'm writing will end.
Feeling what I called "scareditude"
Before the hike is complete, so many more things come to mind, including how far the treatments for multiple myeloma have come and how my next challenge may be easier than I imagine. I've lost count of the times I have thanked God during my hike. "Thank You" is now my mantra as I take each breath.
I have to admit, I'm grateful. Fortunately, this happens more than every three months and is especially strong during these periods.
I arrive home full of life, fears mostly washed away. I have reached my moment of what I call "scareditude," where I ward off being scared by picking up that leash, stepping out the door, and basking in the light of gratitude. Each footfall reminds me of the many good things in my life.
I then have a cup of coffee, feed Fynn, do a few chores, then sit down to check my emails as Fynn lays at my feet. All is good until I see the unread email with the subject line "Hello Michael, you have new test results in Mychart."
How do you deal with fear?
I don't know if anyone else has these bouts of "scareditude." Is it just me or something normal? I'd love to hear from others about how they approach their moments of waiting for test results and what your methods are in pulling your mind away to more positive thoughts.
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