Scanxiety

I learned a new word.  It’s a word that spreads through the cancer community like wild fire.  Scanxiety.   It’s the extreme anxiety that comes when the word scan is mentioned.  The mind races.  Is the tumor smaller?  Has it grown?  Has it spread?  What’s next?  Usually scan results aren’t back for hours or even a day or two.  We all know it’s not good news if it grows or spreads.  No one wants to receive that news.  Unfortunately some do, and that’s why scans are so scary.  So very scary.  So we do 6 cycles of chemo and repeat scans…and wait…for what seems to be an eternity.  It wouldn’t matter if they could give us the results within minutes or seconds, it would still feel like an eternity.  We hold our breath when they say they have the results.  Best case scenario, they remove the tumor and he’s cancer free.  However, it doesn’t stop there.  We repeat scans in another month or three months or six.  For five years.  At least.  And it won’t get easier.  Scanxiety will appear every time.  Of this I have no doubt.  I don’t know if it will end after the 5 year milestone or not.  I can’t imagine it will.  Once a cancer mom, always a cancer mom.  Always wondering if it will reappear. 

 I can’t even explain the feeling.  Butterflies in your stomach isn’t even comparable.  It’s unimaginable uncomfortableness.  Unnerving, uneasy, unpleasant and it’s unavoidable. 

There’s so much worry and fear.  Yet, there’s so much HOPE.  That’s what amazes me most.  The never-ending, vast amount of hope.  Hope.  Hope that the chemo is working.  Hope that the surgery goes as smooth as possible.  Hope that the cancer goes away.  Hope that it never, ever comes back.  Hope that Parker lives a very long and happy life.  And the anxiety and fear, no matter how severe, cannot take the hope away.

Parker goes in for scans on Monday.  He’ll spend all day getting an MRI, CT and PET scans.  I couldn’t be more nervous, but I’m holding on to hope.