Fear. It’s primal. We as humans fear many things, real and unreal, horrible and ridiculous. Heights, flying, public speaking, spiders, bears, snakes. The thing one person most fears is what another scoffs at. And often, our fears tend to be completely unrealistic or downright laughable. For example, I am afraid of the dark. In my own house. What, pray tell, could there possibly be to hurt me in my own bedroom? Nothing. My fears are the product of an over-active imagination run wild, and too many horror films. Many, many people are afraid of flying, translate, dying in a plane crash. Yet, not many people are afraid of dying in a car crash and the chances of doing so are far more likely. So many people, especially women, are afraid, and I mean phobic of insects. Yes, they are repulsive, but most of our Canadian insects can’t really hurt you, (Ok, Australia, another story…) so what is it about them precisely that is so very, very scary?
So we go through life, spending so much wasted energy on being afraid of things that can’t really hurt us. This may sound bizarre, but I feel as though I’ll never be afraid of anything else again. I’ll always be afraid of cancer, but I know now that other things that used to frighten me – public speaking, bears – really don’t have the power to do so any more. I’m rooting my fears in reality now, and the reality is that I’ve had more episodes of heart-stopping, nausea-inducing fear in the last couple of months than I ever want to repeat again in a lifetime. I realize now that we choose many of our fears, and so we can unchoose so many of them as well. Truly, the things that are to be feared the most, are the things that never crossed your worried mind, but blindside you at 4 pm some idle Tuesday, to paraphrase Mary Schmich.
I have picked up the title of my blog from the AT/RT community, now in common use amongst us and meaning, the sickening, spine-tingling, full-body fear that accompanies the approach of a routine scan. It looks like we might have our MRI tomorrow, depending on timing. This is the scan that will tell us if the chemo is working, if Gavin’s tumour has started to grow back. This is the scan that will tell us if radiation is on the table or not. This is the scan during which I will breathe deeply, sending out every positive shred of energy from my body, willing the results to be clear. I will not be able to rest until the results come through. I almost feel as though I can’t sleep tonight, but I have to, because on top of an MRI we also have an echocardiogram and a dental appointment for Bean tomorrow!
Gavin’s fever is down. He’s feeling pretty okay, but still a bit nauseated. He was in good spirits today but tired of being stuck in his room. We are still hoping to be home for our last weekend of freedom this weekend.
We need all your prayers tonight, friends. Think of nothing but clear results for us tomorrow!