I'll take a burrito with guacamole, hold the angst please

Since getting my cancer “all’s clear” back in July 2010, I’ve had four blood draws that are required every three months to make sure I’m still in remission. Each time, there’s been angst leading up to them. I had one today and there was a bit more anxiety than the one I had in August. I’m not quite sure why. But I have a sneaking suspicion it’s because in the past two weeks my luck has kind of, well, sucked. It's been so iconically sucky that I've been channeling a quote from Emily of the Indigo Girls, “You have to laugh at yourself, because you'd cry your eyes out if you didn't.” Needless to say, I've been laughing a lot. But seriously, in the past two weeks I've fallen off a trail and rolled down a hill, I was bit by my dog, Lena got a mild concussion, my roof started leaking, it was discovered during a cold spell that my entire winter’s wood supply is drenched, and my washing machine imploded spilling water all over the floor forcing a late night and early morning repair session which included having to take the entire door frame off the closet the machine was wedged into. To top it off, it was exactly two years ago this month that Dr. Fisher delivered the dreaded news that I may have cancer.

Some people have asked me what it is I experience when I go in for my quarterly check up, so here is how it shakes down. (Note for the squeamish: it’s not bad.)

I go Valley Medical for my quarterlies. Dr. Fisher the Great does a thorough physical examination and asks me how I’ve been feeling. She pats down my lymph nodes on my neck, stomach, and groin to make sure none of them have swollen to abnormal sizes like the grapefruits they turned into the last go around. Next, I go to the lab to get blood drawn. I’m not afraid of needles, but I am afraid of the smell of rubbing alcohol. The lab techs at Valley Medical know this about me and give me plenty of advanced notice so I can turn my head away from the smell and breathe through my mouth. They pull out two vials of blood while I stare at the latest Gary Larson cartoons they have posted on the wall. They do three tests on me: CBC (Complete Blood Count) which checks on my white blood cell count; a Chem 12 test, which contrary to its name actually consists of 14 tests and is an overall comprehensive panel that looks at liver, kidneys, and many other things; and lastly they do a test to make sure my thyroid is still working since radiation to the neck often causes thyroid failure. And then, there’s the wait. It’s usually two days for lab results.

So that’s it. That’s what I do four times a year. It doesn’t seem like it should be that big a deal. But it is to me because it makes me feel like I’m never out of the clear, and I don’t like having that little control over my health. It’s only four times a year, but truthfully, I feel like I’m going in every week.

Today was pretty much the same as it always is, except today I made a huge mistake of picking up trashy People magazine in the waiting room. It was that or Better House Keeping, and quite honestly, I don’t need a magazine to tell me how disorganized my house and life currently is. (There was not one, but TWO dead mice under that damn washing machine. However, I do blame the previous owner of the house because they had been there for quite some time!) As I was catching up on all the stars (most of whom I’ve never heard of) I came across an article on someone named Ethan Zohn, who apparently was on the reality TV show Survivor. The article was about his Hodgkin’s Lymphoma coming back after being in remission for 20 months, but he was still going to run the marathon he had planned for November. Seriously?! And it just had to be the same type of cancer I had. This is not what I need to read right before going in for my check-up.

Dr. Fisher felt no lumps and said things looked good and they’ll let me know about labs. She did scold me about my weight because I’ve dropped over 20 pounds since my last visit in August. I told her I’m not concerned that it’s related to cancer. I’ve been under a lot of stress lately and loss of appetite is fairly common when I get stressed. Plus, I’ve been running a lot. I promised her I’d eat more, gave her a hug, wished her a Happy Thanksgiving and went on my way. I held to my promise and went to the Breeze In and got a burrito and a few donuts (one for me and a few for my coworkers.) The burrito alone is so huge that I’m sure it alone has taken me off the underweight chart.

I’m told that with time, these routine check-ups will get easier. I sure hope so. And thus commences the waiting game for the lab results. Honestly, I'm not concerned at all now that the appointment is over. I just get freaked out going into them. Right now, I'm more concerned about eating a 5lb burrito and donut for lunch. Ouch.