I feel as if I’ve squandered away the past week. I
completely bowed down to the tremendous anxiety and stress that today’s looming PET
Scan was causing me. And after all of that fretting, my oncologist and I decided
to postpone the scan – as well as my appointment with the transplant team –
until next week. I contracted some kind of cold/flu and we do not want to risk
a false positive reading on my scan results.
Whether I picked up a germy somewhere or I got myself sick
with stress, I came down with a whopping sore throat, chills, feveryness, aches
and tremendous fatigue this past weekend. I convinced myself that it was DoomsDay.
I worried and worried and worried and
worried about all the scenarios:
Conclusion A: I’d never recover from the virus I’d contracted and
it would find a way to eat me alive
Conclusion B: Hodgkin’s Disease was flaring on the rise, for sure,
so fast that my new immune system would never be able to catch it
Conclusion C: I re-broke my foot, as it was so achey, along with
the rest of me. A piece of bone must have dislodged and was floating through me
ready to nest in my brain and cause me to hemorrhage (so obvious)
All of these scenarios were evils that I manifested then couldn’t handle
comprehending. I completely lost control and surrendered, basically digging
myself a grave these past few days. I conceded defeat and moaned and groaned
the days away just wishing I could get to today to have my damn PET Scan that
would seal my fate. That is not like me, and I hated it.
