Self-Doubt

Self-doubt arrived quietly, without knocking, the day I was told, “You have a chronic blood cancer.” Essential Thrombocythemia—three words I had never heard before—landed like a verdict. My mind raced with questions I didn’t know how to ask, and underneath them all was one aching whisper: “Can I really do this?”

Fear doesn’t mean I’m weak — it means I’m human

That whisper didn’t go away. It resurfaced during countless appointments, as my platelet counts were tracked and treatment decisions weighed heavily. It showed up when fatigue gripped me so tightly I wondered if I’d ever feel like myself again. And later, when my husband needed a kidney and pancreas transplant, self-doubt became almost deafening: “How can you care for him when you’re still learning how to care for yourself?”

There were nights I lay awake staring at the ceiling, afraid to admit how overwhelmed I felt. Afraid to admit that sometimes I questioned whether I had the strength for both battles: his and mine. But then I’d remember: I’ve been walking this path for years. Each lab result, each hospital stay, each new challenge I’ve faced has shaped me into someone stronger than self-doubt wants me to believe.

Being a patient and a caregiver at the same time is like walking a tightrope with no safety net. You learn to find balance in the unsteady moments and courage in the quiet ones. I’ve had to learn that fear doesn’t mean I’m weak—it means I’m human. And it means I’m deeply invested in this fight for life, for love, for the promise of more days together.

Overcoming self-doubt

Self-doubt wants to tell me I’m not enough—that the weight of this life will crush me. But every time I stand up, advocate for myself, comfort my husband through his roller coaster post-op care, or share my story so another patient feels less alone, I prove otherwise. I prove that resilience isn’t about feeling fearless—it’s about moving forward despite the fear.

So, self-doubt, hear me clearly: you will not win. You are a shadow in the corner of my mind, but I am the light that keeps breaking through. My life — our life — is bigger than your whispers. And I intend to live it, fully and fiercely, no matter how many times you try to tell me I can’t.