waiting on a scan

Today I am perfectly healthy, as far as I know. That is, my last scan was all clear and I am rapidly approaching the next. The next scan may show anything... but until then I am all clear -- as far as I know.

Every three months there's the relief and relaxation following a clear scan. The stress gradually increases; each day could be the start of a new tumour (though I wouldn't know). Then... the next scan... followed by the relief of another all clear. Or not, of course, because that doubt is what causes the stress.

A couple of weeks ago I hit a patch of stress. Then the stress faded as (I like to think) I dealt with it. Pushed it aside. Stopped the stress from causing actual worry. Nevertheless, I can still feel some symptoms.

I am... dissociated. Not entirely fixed in the real world. A feeling of disinterest in -- in particular -- the ridiculous problems of the real world. And by "real world" I mean, the nonsense which passes as "news". Sure, I can see the stupidity of politicians, the potential for disaster due to human action -- but I don't really care.

Not that I don't care about the future of humanity. I would really like to see a bright and positive future for my family. And for my friends :-) But I don't see anything that I can do, I don't see signs of politicians -- or others -- making radical changes to bring peace & happiness to all people... and it doesn't really worry me. I've done my bit, I do my bit, the rest of the world can look after itself. Or not.

I am, somewhat, dissociated from my own reality. I do less planning ahead than I would have last year. No, not just less planning because I may be dead next year :-) For example: we are heading to a rogaine, I check the road map -- but not very carefully. Turn off the highway here, no worries. Where next ? No idea, I haven't looked that far ahead. Lost on the way to a rogaine ? A poor sign for a navigation-based event :-)

I also -- and this is not new -- get angry at inanimate objects. My dissociation is, in part, a way of reducing this anger: This door won't instantly open, I start to swear at it, think, it doesn't matter, I'm not in a hurry, wherever I'm going is not important, it can wait. Then I accept that the inanimate door will open in its own good time and I can relax.

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Anyway, what is there to stress about ? Oh, yes, cancer. It will kill me. Sooner or later.

It's funny, though. Having dealt with the last patch of stress, I am now in a state of total disbelief. Doublethink: yes, I will die, no, I won't die... equal belief in both opposing ideas. This doublethink has a funny effect:

When I think of the effect of death on myself, it is not as scary as I would expect. Me die ? No way ! I just can't (quite) believe that it will happen. At the same time, I accept that I will die -- and I worry about Deb. Sure, she will cope. But will she remember to wind the clock ?! In the big picture, I know that Deb will be okay. It's the little things, the day-to-day things, that worry me.

What about our kids ? They are okay, doing very well with life and careers. They have never really needed my advice, they get it anyway, they will do well without my future advice. They may already be worried, they will be upset when I die, they will cope. I worry about them but that's a parent thing, I always worry that their lives are not as perfect as I would hope.

I do have a new worry: our grandson. He is now old enough to notice if grandad is not there. Will he be upset when I'm dead ? Probably. Will he understand death ? Possibly. Will it *really* upset him ? I hope not.

So... gloom and misery. Enough of that ! I may be worried -- but I'm cheerful.

I may be disassociated from the problems of the world. I may not really believe that I am going to die. I can still worry about the family and their future.

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I have an indirect comment on my blog, from a man who is also dying from GBM4. His situation reminds me how lucky I am. Relatively speaking.

He has had more surgery, more chemo, the same amount of radiation treatment. His cancer was detected a few months before mine; he is still being treated. He is 20 years younger than me. Poor bugger. I am very lucky with the timing and status of my cancer. Relatively speaking.

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Hmmm... a long post. Not much actually happening, a lot of mental coping & worrying. I have lacked the drive to document these less visible things.

It's the coming scan that has provided a kick-start: get it all down before it all changes. Where "it" is my mental attitude. Which may change for better or worse -- as soon as I have the next scan results.

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Growing old -- to introduce a new topic -- has come at a very inconvenient time. I had -- as far as I know -- no symptoms before I collapsed in a fun run. Dr T, the cancer doc, reassures me that I am unlikely to die in the three months between MRI scans. I may, however, develop symptoms...

When I have a headache: is this a symptom of a new brain tumour ? That's an obvious question. Luckily I have never suffered from many headaches. Any I get now are mild and -- after a moment of pointless worry -- they go away. Or I drink more water, eat something salty, then the headache goes away.

What about the tingle on the soles of my feet ? That, according to wikipedia, is a standard side-effect of my chemo drugs. But it's months since I took those drugs -- yet the tingle still comes and goes. Or... maybe...

Each week we take our grandson to swimming lessons. My role is, after the formal lesson, to splash round in the pool with the toddler. To splash round in a shallow pool with a non-slip surface -- which acts like sandpaper. After an hour of splashing around, the toddler's knees are scraped and red. My feet and hands are also thoroughly sand-papered.

My sand-papered hands are very sensitive; I have to be very careful handling a hot cup of tea. I do not dare touch a hot teabag. I suspect that my feet tingle because -- in part -- they are as sensitive as my hands. Sandpapered and sensitive.

Then there are the aching muscles. Back and shoulders. Knees and ankles. Is this a sign of cancer spreading to the bones and muscles ? Noooo... it's too much sitting hunched over a PC. An old problem. I stretch, I take breaks, I raise the PC and stand rather than sit. It all helps.

I sleep a lot. The effect of cancer and its treatement ? I'm not sure... There may be some residual exhaustion post-treatment. Or the body working hard to resist. I suspect that attempting to run more, to restore some fitness, just makes me tired.

And, of course, I am getting older.

The gradual aging process was noticeable. The effect on health and fitness was clear. Then I had a major setback -- and lost a lot of that health and fitness. It is difficult to know how much lack of fitness is now due to the sudden reduction of exercise -- and how much is simply the normal aging process, interrupted but never stopped.

Getting unfit and growing old are happening together. It's hard to separate the effects of each. Really, it's very inconvenient.

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And finally (I think): a dream.

I remember there were two distinct parts of the dream, I remembered them long enough to tell Deb. Now... I can only remember one part. A dream needs to be recorded asap, the memory fades very quickly. So, the bit that I remember:

I am following someone. They cross on a tightrope, a low-wire. The rope has three parts, one above the other, so you can walk on the lower part and hold on to the two upper parts. Admittedly the higher ropes are less than half a metre above the lower one -- not really practical for holding on.

The person ahead of me simply runs across the rope, superb balance, no need to hold on. I look at the rope, nervously.

Then I run *beside* the rope and easily reach the other side.

My interpretation: Support ? My be useful or maybe not. Problems ? Who cares. I'll just get across some other way.

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There, I think I've covered everything relevant. And if not, I have at least cleared my mind so that I will be able to remember -- and post -- anything which I have missed.

Enough, for now.

====    Dr Nick Lethbridge  /  Consulting Dexitroboper
Agamedes Consulting / Problems? Solved.
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"Real people don't make very good politicians." … Ginger Meggs
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dying for you to read my blog: notdotdeaddotyet.blogspot.com.au :-)
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