"Scanxiety ... you sa-huuuck!"

This is so real. I can't stand it. I can't get my brain to think about anything aside from the scan that I'm scheduled to have tomorrow.
I was supposed to have my scan last Friday. Instead, I was admitted to the hospital the afternoon before. I'm thinking that I worked myself up in to such a tizzy that my only coping mechanism was to physically sicken myself. I feel pretty weak admitting that, but it's the truth. I've got a four day hospital bill to prove it.
There's a lot riding on my scan tomorrow ... my future treatment plan, my future traveling plans, my future physical well-being and emotional well-being. My future. Maybe because I'm much more coherent this time around, the results feel so finite. It's either going to be a good, clean scan and I'll be jumping for joy, or it will be dirty and I'll be forced to stay in Cancerland for another 6 months, maybe longer.
Either way, tomorrow can't come and go quickly enough. Most terminally ill people don't think that way but I'd dare say us cancer warriors all feel that at some point before a scan.

Carry on,
Kristin

"300 Days, huh?"

The 300 days I initially thought I'd be actively using this cancer blog have come and have long since gone. 300 days, my foot! Let's shake things up a bit and maybe I'll post more often if I don't completely resent the title of my blog and the fact that we've blown by 400 days of this crap like it was scripted.
Having said that, I give you, "Cancerland ... Welcome."
You don't have to be a cancer patient/victim to enter, nor a certain height to ride the rides with me. If you are like me and my sarcastic mockery of cancer suits you, please make note that Cancerland land is much like the Hotel California. You can check out (mentally) anytime you'd like but you can never leave.


Carry on,
Kristin