Scanxiety, early and often

Scanxiety = anxiety about scans, (MRI, etc.) particularly if you've had cancer. Scanxiety happens any time a scan is coming up. It can happen months before a scan, or hours before. It also happens AFTER the scan while you await the results.

For me, scanxiety happens early and it happens often. Today is Sept. 1. In November I have my annual breast MRI. In December I have NIH clinic, where I receive a full body and brain MRI.

Scanxiety is happening now.

It doesn't matter how many years out from cancer you are. It doesn't matter if you have back-to-back clean, NED (no evidence of disease) scans. Scanxiety is always, always there. 

And in my opinion and experience, it becomes worse (if it can possibly be worse) when you're a mom. Because the scan isn't just for you anymore. And it's not just for your family. (Your spouse). The scan is for your child. 

On Sept. 12 I will celebrate 18 years (EIGHTEEN YEARS) since my Leukemia diagnosis. I have less anxiety about blood work because I get it every four months, and anything weird that shows up is dealt with ASAP. 

But SCANS. 

Scanxiety. Because you don't, and can't possibly, know what, if anything will show up on an MRI. Anything is something, and something is something, and although sometimes something is nothing, something is something when it comes to rocking your world for however long it takes to figure out that something is nothing. 

In April I'll celebrate five years since my breast cancer diagnosis. But April is SOOOOOO far away. I can't possibly look to April or get excited about April. It's too far away. I'm not yet able to say "almost five years" out from breast cancer. Not until March. 

For now we concentrate on Sept. 12. And the 18-year mark. Because that is something big. 

Just because scanxiety is normal and expected doesn't make it any easier. So I talk about it in therapy, and I post about it in my Facebook LFS support groups. Because they all get it. Of course, I'm not going to sit over here and stew in my worry for the next two months. But scanxiety has appeared, and it will be here, on and off, through December. It's just part of life. It's part of LFS. 

Scans have to be done, and I wouldn't have it any other way. I am lucky to be in the NIH study. I am lucky Dr. Kass continues to do my breast MRIs once a year even though most breast cancer patients five years out get them less often. But then again, I am not most breast cancer patients, or most cancer patients or most patients. 

I have LFS and I have scanxiety. And the most and best I can do is just embrace it, power through it, have faith, and above all, realize that absolutely none of this is in my control.