The start of a big week

It's a big week this week, with the CT scan on tomorrow (well, today now) and then the meeting with the haematologist on Wednesday. The outcome of the latter will dictate how my life is planned out for the next few months.

I can't deny a distinct feeling of apprehension. Of course, it's only natural to feel that way, but it's something which is nagging at me nonetheless. The uncertainty, in particular, is the nub of it. It's almost like those memories of waiting anxiously for exam results day. I always envisioned my results, or moreover the potential for what they could be, swirling around in the air, endlessly reconfiguring on the paper up until that moment when I finally opened up the envelopes and discovered for sure how I'd done.

I've had almost 2 weeks now of living with all of this and it's been an odd experience realising things are different - even though I know something is wrong with me, there have been moments where I've almost completely forgotten (e.g. when I'm enjoying my amazing friends' company). Then, something like maybe a discomfiting pull in my jaw (from my biopsy incision) occurs when I'm eating, or I register an undisguised flicker by another's eyes to my neck, or I feel an insidious feeling of fatigue seep through me - all of which pull me firmly down to reality.

Other things have also been tough. I don't yet have the facts, so any twinge, ache or itch, especially in my chest, groin or armpit, is scrutinised and worried about whenever it happens. That is, until I consciously think to control of those thought patterns and try to shut them off.

The anatomy of the emotional process I've found myself going through is actually fairly similar to a sudden, unexpected break up, which, in my experience, is:
1) An immediate sense of shock on hearing the news that things will never be the same again - a numbness descends on you for a few days.
2) A slow reconciliation with oneself as the shock gradually dissipates, as you come to accept your new situation.
3) Acceptance; "yeah, I've got to move on, give it a few months and I'll be all right".

Strangely, I think that the lived experience I have of these past emotional traumas has enabled me to have a sense of discipline stored in my brain which helps me deal with "bad" thoughts somewhat. I never thought I'd be thankful for those experiences.

I'm almost at acceptance now, going by the little emotional model I set out above. By that, I mean I've accepted - obviously, how can one not - that I am a cancer patient, but once I know everything on Wednesday I'll absorb the news (probably going through the other two stages I just mentioned again!) and be able to reach a plane of mental stability, with my life having been planned out before me. Plus I'll have some idea of when the light at the end of the cloyingly dark tunnel I've unfortunately found myself in will be visible again.

Anyway, despite my apprehension, I'm taking the positives I can from it, and trying to live life anchored through those for the time being. These are:
+ We have identified what is wrong with me, and these results will determine how this will be fixed
+ This whole process needs to be gone through, no matter how apprehensive I feel; there's simply no other option
+ Medical science is incredible, and I am young and (relatively!) fit
+ I don't think I exhibit any "B" characteristics of Hodgkin's (i.e. I am not symptomatic, which can indicate that it's a bit more progressed)
+ I'll get the best treatment and, to be honest, what is a few months out of my life compared to if I did nothing and lost it
+ I'll come out the other side, as many have said (particularly my Auntie in a very nice text) far stronger

Time marches on doesn't it? I almost don't want to publish this because it'll mean the week has begun and I have to go to bed. But I must. U+O.
T