"I'm In a Cancer State-of-Mind."

I just read this amazing article written by lutintoutnu.

It's poses the question: "Are we ever really cancer-FREE?"
If I had to answer that question right now, my answer would be no ... even though the cancer that was inside me seems to have been eaten up by the 6 months of chemo I just finished. I didn't have much active cancer inside me to begin to with, but ... but my latest pet scan results came back basically N.E.D. (No Evidence of Disease).
I should be doing cartwheels or cheering or something elated with that kind of news, but I'm not. I can't. Here's my theory why: CANCER isn't just a disease, it's a state-of-mind. This mental place is totally possible and quite frankly, reasonable considering what I've been through. If someone can be in a "New York state-of-mind", a "Cancer state-of-mind" HAS to apply, right? Que video below now.
Yes, my physical body seems to have responded to my therapy but my mind just sees statistics. It still hears things like, "You have blankety-blank months," and "Stage 4," and "Chemo for life." 
I want my mind to match my body. What my conscious is saying right now: "Please respond to the therapies I'm offering you, oh warped brain in my skull. Can't you see the the cancer's gone?"
What my mind hears: "Late-stage cancer is terminal. Late-stage cancer has an 80-90% chance of recurrence."
I don't think a day will go by--for the rest of my life--that I'll be able to just kick back and say, "Oh hey, all is well because I'm cancer-free." Even during this blissful chemocation I'm enjoying, the worry is still there. 
Lutintoutnu says, "It might not be all sunshine, rainbows or fluffy kittens but it is where I am at. Yes I am grateful for my life and my health but I want to be OK with this second stage of feeling scared, worried, and anxious. I can't quite explain why these thoughts are poisoning my mind ..." 
Cancer is a state-of-mind. That's why thoughts like these ones are constantly swimming around in my head. The worry is my mental poison. I hope this goes away or at least decreases over time. But I'm not counting on it. 
Of course, it doesn't help that I'm nervous for tomorrow. I meet with Doc W to discuss phase 2 of my long-term care plan. Wish me luck!

Carry on,
Kristin