Fear is the mind-killer. Fear is the little-death that brings total obliteration ….
Words from Frank Herbert’s book “Dune”. Words that impressed me decades ago and that left an indelible impact on my viewpoints towards life.
“To save you from worry, nothing wrong on PET scan.”
WORDS. The power they have is immense and sometimes intense. Aural or visual symbols that forward views, news and ideas belonging to another person or persons. They have the power to spike your adrenaline, shatter your dreams or to return life to a normalcy that you yearn for.
The words above came to me in the form of a text from Sam, my radiologist the day after I had a PET scan to check the status of what appeared to be a lump on my sternum. It turns out that what appears as a lump is really my xipoid process, a strange name for a bone that is shaped like a sword blade that we all have between our ribs. When you have had cancer lumps are harbingers of fear striking at deep seated beliefs that any old lump could be a malignant tumour.
I felt it for the first time about 4 weeks ago. To be honest it freaked me out enough to attempt to see Dr Eng (my cancer doctor) but he was in the middle of warding off an attack from his mainstream medical peers on that particular day. He couldn’t see me. I asked a chiropractor who I know and he said that it may be my Xipoid process which at the time sounded like some sort of Chinese political propaganda slogan. For some reason this calmed down my fears and I forgot about it until I felt the lump again a fortnight ago. I asked a few of my friends to feel it and the general consensus was that it didn’t seem to be a normal lump.
Back into the murky wastelands of fear, mystery and uncertainty.
By this time I was genuinely worried and imagining that I had a rabble of cancer cells that had metasticized from my lymph nodes in my neck into my chest.
I went to see another GP who works with Dr Eng who felt the lump and thought it was suspicious enough to order an x-ray and blood tests which I promptly did. Then last Saturday morning I had a zoom call with my radiologist who recommended that I have a PET scan just to be on the safe side.
So there I was after several months of optimism and euphoria. My attention slammed in on my body. All the colour and light seemed to drain out of my world. It’s amazing what you can do to yourself if you aren’t careful. I probably still appeared to be calm, collected and relatively OK on the outside but internally my thoughts turned in on themselves like a leech turned inside out on a twig.
Looking back over the past year I now see that most of my time was spent feeling in control. It was only the first few weeks when I had no direction and was shrouded in mystery that I felt lonely and scared. But once you grab the horse by the reigns it’s simply a matter of improving your riding skills which comes through knowledge and practise.
What I did learn from this recent experience is that maintaining one’s health is an ongoing project that calls for continued discipline, learning and hard work. I also had a front row seat to watch myself implode. It is so easy to rob yourself of the magic of life, which by the way is always within our reach. It’s just easy to close the door on and lock out the enchantment.
The other emotion I felt was a sense of loss, a feeling of disappointment, an awareness that optimism isn’t always enough. The universe is full of chaos. This not only makes it a wondrous playground but it also makes it unpredictable and slightly dangerous.
On a positive note I confronted this recent challenge with a greater degree of acceptance which meant that I was ready for anything, not trying to put up a brick wall to protect myself.
I am now even more grateful for the opportunity to experience life, I am in greater awe of the uniqueness of the experience. The complexities and the conundrums are still there but with each barrier I cross I get a clearer glimpse of the simplicity and power that makes it what it is.
When you are confronted with the possibility of death you get the opportunity to gain so much hope and gratitude to put into your bag of tricks to carry forward into the future.
I still don’t have precise words to communicate to others what life truly means to me but this isn’t going to stop me trying.
For now, it’s just wonderful to be alive and well.
