Cancer is a B****, and so is Worry
"Worrying is like paying a debt you don't owe." ~Mark Twain
On October 13th, 2015, I was lying on an exam room table at the Lemmen-Holton Cancer Pavillion. I’d received an abnormal mammogram result just a few days earlier, so I was back for a more in-depth exam. I knew that I had dense breast tissue so, it was no surprise that they wanted a second look. The radiologist was just using seasoned caution.
Staring up at the tube light fixture, I zeroed in on the back-lit nature scene that replaced the translucent cover. It’s meant to help calm nerves and keep your mind busy during procedures. I had just had a more advanced 3-D X-ray, and now I was in this room for an ultrasound. The doubling down was starting to seem like a lot of fuss.
An accumulation of digital images began to populate the ultrasound screen as the technician passed the wand over my breasts, stopping to take stills of suspect dark areas. I absentmindedly listened to the technician and nurse chat about their fall color tour plans. It was the last conversation where I remember a sense of normal. The images would be reviewed by the radiologist right away.
The countdown to eternity began as I waited in that room alone.
The situation's seriousness arrived with the radiologist when he came to discuss the findings with me. He saw some “areas of concern” in my right breast. My heart immediately jumped in my throat. A biopsy would be the necessary next step; it was scheduled for later that afternoon. I left the Pavillion, disoriented and reeling.
I had enough time to go home and try to gain some composure, a cup of tea as an anchor for the storm brewing in my mind.
A few short hours later, I was anxiously staring up at the nature scene above again as the technician explained the procedure and began numbing me. The view induced nausea all of a sudden as the audible snap of the needle biopsy gun shocked my system. I stopped counting after seven snaps. My body began to shake involuntarily. The nurse reached for my hand to comfort me as the room ballooned with the sort of heavy silence that falls when something grave happens.
I knew by that swollen hush and the tender glances from the nurse, my life would never be the same. I did not need the biopsy results to confirm that I had breast cancer. I cried all the way home.
By this point, I was nearly hysterical with projecting the worst-case scenario and paralyzed by the fear that I would die. I called one of my closest friends who had been diagnosed with breast cancer just two years prior. She’s the queen of no-nonsense advice; I knew I could count on her to give me the non-sugar-coated version of what was in store for me. She would give me an honest appraisal of what I needed to do to steel myself. She didn’t disappoint.
Her advice: Don’t buy trouble. The words hit me like a ton of bricks.
It was immediately evident that what got me into this mental state was worrying about every future scenario out of my control and hiding from the underlying emotions.
It would be two days before I was officially diagnosed with breast cancer.
I had a month leading up to my mastectomy to prepare myself mentally and physically. I tried to listen to what my body needed on a cellular level. Quality sleep, nourishing food, self-care, honest conversations about my feelings, and the comfort of good friends and family. I let them feed my soul.
It was a year of immersion in the world of surgeries, radiation treatments, adjuvant therapies, and grueling physical therapy sessions. All the while, I grew stronger through a daily meditation and yoga practice that began to slowly bring me back to a sense of wholeness in my body. It was arduous, but the transformation was profound.
What continued to ring true throughout my cancer journey were the words, “Don’t buy trouble.” Whenever I would start to worry and project out into the future, I would refocus on what was immediately in front of me. It was a total mindset shift.
You have the ability to overcome hard challenges in life by attending to your physical, emotional, and spiritual needs in the present moment. By staying open to emotions as they come up and riding the wave of uncertainty, you are acknowledging your vulnerability. You don’t need all of the answers, just a willingness to be honest about how you’re feeling right now.
Emotions don’t need to be fixed; they do need the space to be expressed fully. That awareness is the key that unlocks the door to your inner freedom.
Peace, calm, and balance are the rewards when you leave tomorrow's concerns in the future.
Insight to Action: Worry is your mind’s way of staying busy. The negative cycle it creates feeds fear and anxiety about an imagined future problem. When you feel anxious about something, ask yourself if what you are worrying about is within your control to change or influence. If so, make a list of steps that clearly maps a plan forward. Next to each step, also record the emotion you will feel. For instance: Relief would come from calling the doctor to make an appointment for a bothersome cough. If what you are anxious about is out of your control permit yourself to let it go. Place your attention on the feeling beneath it instead. Honor it by giving it room to breathe.