My oncologist checkup is overdue. Long overdue, months over due. I’ve told my husband I’ll make the appointment when I am ready. I’ve promised friends I’ll make the appointment soon. But I don’t. I’m too scared. I’m not scared of what he will say, or what the test will find. I’m scared of thinking about it, dealing with it. I get through some of life on denial. And making appointments, dealing with CAT scans and blood tests is not denial. It’s proactive. And it is too hard to be proactive about this. Thinking about making the appointments brings back memories of some of the worst times of my life.
When I learned I had cancer my worst fear was that I would die and leave my babies. And the thought of leaving my boys was far worse then the fear of dying. Boys need their mommy and mommies need to see their boys grow up. It wasn’t that they wouldn’t have been well cared for, after all they had would still have had the world’s best daddy, loving grandparents, aunts, uncles, etc. But they wouldn’t have had me.
Well, obviously I didn’t die. And I know I need to make the various appointments and see the stupid, viscous, scum sucking Oncologist (he is really a fantastic doctor and a wonderful man. He saved my life and helped give me the courage and support I needed to get through a very difficult time—but I feel better calling him those names). I can do it. I can do it. After all I am woman!! I can roar!! Right, Helen Reddy?
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