‘Twas the Night Before…
Well, here we are again. The night before my next set of diagnostic CT scans. This week has been pretty anxiety provoking; indeed Monday was definitely a down day. My mood just took a header as I walked into my office building and it just stayed down for the majority of the day. MaryBeth asked that evening if perhaps I was stressed because of my scans. Interestingly, I was not (consciously) thinking about my scans, but once she reminded me of them, my anxiety made sense.
Tuesday, I was talking with my therapist and we got to talking about how many people point out to me that any one of us could go out and get hit by a bus at any moment. (Which leads me to wonder why it would be a bus and not some more conventional vehicle. You would think that if we are going to get hit by some vehicle, it would be something more common than a bus.) My stock response to people when they make the getting hit by some vehicle comment is, “Great! Now I have to worry about getting hit by a [insert vehicle here] AND dying of cancer!”
Anywho, my therapist pointed out something that really helped put into perspective why the “getting hit by a vehicle” comment doesn’t really apply. She pointed out that people do not get up every morning thinking about the possibility of getting hit by a vehicle. In fact, the presumption most people function on the presumption that they will go about their day in relative safety. On the other hand, I wake up every morning with the knowledge that I have a particularly deadly form of cancer. Who knows how long I will hang on (my hope is a long, long time — in fact, MaryBeth told me I have to live until I’m 104 years old; I’m good with that).
I’m trying to wax nostalgic at the moment. My brother-in-law scott just called to give me his condolences about my father and his good wishes for my scans tomorrow. I told him what a good friend once told me: the scans will only tell me what is already there. The cancer has either come back or it has not, but whichever the answer is, I won’t find out until next Wednesday.
In the meantime, I am enjoying my opportunity at being Mr. Mom while MaryBeth is visiting with baby Lucy, I mean visiting with her sister Catherine. 
So far, all three kids are still breathing and not sporting any (visible) injuries. Truth be told, I have really enjoyed being able to have this time with my kids. It’s a challenge, to be sure, and I have a renewed sense of respect of the stuff that MaryBeth has to deal with on a day to day basis.
Thank you for sticking with me. I will let you know what I find out as soon as I can. More later.
Merle
Bill and I are thinking of you and hoping that the scans turn out well.
We are so sorry to hear of your dad’s passing. Please accept our condolences.
Sharon