"Scanxiety". Dad Update 12/8/2014

Scanxiety.

Our next scan is approaching more quickly than I would like, and as often as I tell myself to not live from one MRI to the next, the anxiety associated with any type of scan in the cancer world is always terrifying. 

You go through so many emotions leading up to the scan, as each scan can bring a huge amount of relief, or a huge amount of fear. I have a verse taped on my computer screen at work: "They do not fear bad news, they confidently TRUST the Lord to care for them." (Psalm 112:7). And yes, I confidently TRUST- but I don't think anyone who is waiting for the results of a MRI/PET/CAT scan can say that this trust completely takes away all of the fear and anxiety. The fear and anxiety is still there, and you attempt to cope with it as best as you possibly can, and that's all you can do. You say a prayer, hope for the best and know that no matter what the results show, you've got a pretty amazing God leading you down this path. I try to remind myself that fear can keep us up all night, but Faith makes one great pillow!

12/5/2014 marked 14 months in our journey against brain cancer. 14 months marks the median survival rate for Glioblastoma patients, which is a number that I am fighting so hard to change, and a number I'm praying each day that Dad surpasses. 

Last week was a tough week for Dad, as chemo week is always a little difficult. The side effects of the treatment make him so incredibly tired and he fights each day for strength to do "normal" things around the house. The week of chemo is not only difficult on Dad, but also on Mom. I sometimes think we forget about the caregivers for those going through cancer, the toll it can take on them mentally and physically. Sometimes we forget that caregivers see it all, we sit in treatment centers- surrounded by others in the same battle we face every day-, we see the side effects of the treatments, and we see the statistics of the disease we battle. Some days are just downright difficult for caregivers, and sometimes I'm not sure that others 100% understand that. 

The things most people complain about, the struggles most people have, I promise all those in the Cancer Clinic would be more than happy to take on, instead of fighting for their lives. And as much as I wish each and every time I step foot in the Cancer Clinic that I wasn't going there, that our lives didn't revolve around Avastin and Temodar (chemo) treatments and the upcoming MRIs, I also remind myself that things could be worse. I remind myself that there is always, ALWAYS, something to be thankful for. 

Dad has continued to fight since day 1, and I've seen and experienced things in my life that I would never wish upon anyone, but I've learned so much about myself, my strength, and my faith these last 14 months. I've learned to see the positive in our situation, I've learned that I can relate to so many others in their battles against cancer, and I've learned that I'm much stronger than I ever thought I would have to be. 

The 14 month mark means so much to me, as I have never wanted Dad to be part of THAT statistic, instead part of the long term survivors statistic and part of the HOPE for a cure. I want Dad to be that percent that shocks the doctors and research, I want Dad to prove that he can and will beat this disease. 

"Part of winning the battle against cancer is hope, faith, determination, strength and keeping positive. The other part of winning the battle is a great medical team on your side. I learned early on that stats are just numbers and I'm more than a number. I'm a strong human being with inner strength and an iron-clad determination to fight to win. Stats don't tell you about the human behind the fighter who possesses the will and strength to fight, win and overcome."

Continue your thoughts and prayers for Dad, and all those fighting against cancer- thoughts and prayers for better days ahead and thoughts and prayers for great scan results! The "scanxiety" will never completely go away, but I hope all those fighting against the fear and anxiety can remember that there's a little something comforting about a billion stars held steady by a God who knows what he is doing. 

Continue praying, as we continue fighting to BTHO Brain Cancer!