Anxiety

Three years ago this week my life was turning upside down. It was like I was a preteen at Great America. Waiting in line for a ride I knew was going to turn me upside down and put terror in my heart, but not being able to get out of line because it was supposed to be fun. I found a lump. Had to be nothing right? I'm 33, have an infant, was healthy and this doesn't happen to people my age. Yet I knew something was terribly wrong. So I stayed in line, got on that ride, and was flipped upside down. Never to be the same. 
The ironic thing is, a few weeks ago I was looking forward to this week. I was going to create this great post on how my life was returned to a new normal. How somehow, despite scars and scares, extra weight and the 10+ pills I take twice I day, I forgot a lot of the time that I even had cancer. Really. I was feeling that way. Then I got into a car accident. Terrified I hurt my reconstruction as I hit the steering wheel and was injured by the seatbelt. Back in the ER, getting chest X-rays, being asked if there was a chance I was pregnant, explaining why I didn't need a pregnancy test, hyperventilating and in full PTSD mode. On oxygen, on a gurney in the middle of an er hallway ehile rape victims are being interviewed and Police Officers and DCFS Officials are dealing with a father being arrested for child abuse thinking how can i be back here again?  finally a dr asked me what I wanted for the pain. I said I wanted an Ativan. She, thankfully complied, and I finally calmed down. Yes, I needed the comfort of that magic pill that I used to take before each chemo treatment (27 of them) to help me stop spiraling down in despair.  Still, as I sit here the night before my check up with my oncologist I cannot help but have anxiety. Every time the Caller ID pops up with Loyola's number my heart drops into my stomach and my stomach drops into my shoes. I will never have my life back, but I have to create a new normal. 
I wake up each morning and the first thing I do is thank God for being here one more day. Each night at bedtime I thank God for giving me that day and look forward to being alive for at least one more day. Before I sat down to write this I was doing laundry, washing the cleaning rags, thinking how I was so worried and worked up abou this. And how I just wanted to know it was all going to be ok. And wouldn't you know it, I found a penny at the bottom of the washing machine. My grandma Krupa was sending me a sign from heaven that all was going to b ok. I know it. But still, it is hard. I'd say about 90% of the time I forget about the whole cancer experience, but am always thrown off by the triggers that toss me back into that world. A hand gesture, a smell, a chance encounter with someone. An innocent question from a stranger. 
This week has seen some terrible things in this world, roadside bomb in Afghanistan killing a 25 year old who lived in my area.  Two bombs at the Boston Marathon. I think why, this world has so much pain without people purposely causing it. I cry more easily. I think about those people just going about their day, who are now missing limbs. Their family members and the affect it has on the whole family. Forever. No one is ever the same. It makes me sad. It makes me mad. No parent should bury a child. No parent should watch their child suffer. No child should grow up parent less. 
Some days I feel like I am just climbing climbing climbing a set of stairs that is never going to end. On a treadmill that won't stop, but will take me no where. Other days I feel on top of the world. Almost thankful for this experience of cancer as it has given me a new appreciation for life. A new awakening and attention to detail I never had before. I am hoping with time, and with each passing year the anxiety diminishes and the good thoughts prevail. 
Still, I welcome your prayers and I will work to find the silver lining of each bad day. More good days than bad, more smiles than years and more laughter than complaints. This is what I will continue to strive and live for.