Scanxiety & Clear Scan Elation
Scans are overwhelmingly stressful. A specific kind of stress that warrants it’s own name — scanxiety. Shout out to the cancer community for that one.
You know the feeling on a Sunday night after a fun filled bender that leaves your heart full but your mental and physical health in shambles? When all your willpower is spent convincing yourself you aren’t dying, everyone isn’t mad at you and your life isn’t falling apart? Or that feeling when you put your heart and soul into a project at work or school and your trajectory high key depends on it? You are almost ready to present or hand it in but you keep checking and rechecking wondering whether it’s going to be enough? Now imagine adding the legitimate possibility of cancer to your spiral. That’s scanxiety. I don’t think it’s a coincidence you can’t spell scan without SCA aka soul-crushing-anxiety.
My scanxiety was crippling this time around. My mental health was an absolute hellscape for the past two weeks. I’ve gotten better at deciphering when my trauma brain is fear mongering vs. when there’s a legitimate concern in my body. That went out the window.
My most recent COVID positive led me to miss a vacation that would have distracted me from all of these thoughts. That did not help. Said lingering COVID symptoms felt like my pre diagnosis symptoms. That did not help. I just moved across the country from my family and friends. Homesickness and loneliness did not help. My car has been acting up. The visual of my engine catching fire on the way to the scan definitely did not help. The research I did on mattress off-gassing and how it might lead to cancer did not help. Even Beyonce’s new album had a limit to how much it helped. Is “PLASTIC OFF THE SOFA” about off gassing? Probably not, but it didn’t help. The mold on the piece of toast I ate immediately following the scan did not help.
Finding out my doctor moved up my post scan appointment in the middle of my self care spa day did not help. Not an ounce of relaxation was had in the relaxation garden. I don’t remember the two hours between that call from the hospital and the follow up message from my doctor confirming my scan was clear. Trauma is wild. The amount of cortisol running through my body can only be compared to the consistent stream of CO2 coming from Kylie Jenner’s Private Jet when there’s traffic in LA.
As life goes, the lowest of lows are followed by the the highest of highs. On the other end of the scanxiety spectrum is the clear scan elation. The visceral full body sobs of relief when I found out it was clear. The cancer isn’t back. The familiar feeling of driving home scream singing Lizzo while accidentally recklessly swerving between traffic. The satisfaction of confidently telling my trauma brain to back down. The whole hearted assurance that it’s safe to come back to my body. The joy in making plans without worrying about needing to cancel them for treatment. The gratitude that comes from allowing aches and pains to be a gentle reminder I get the opportunity to age instead of warning signs of something else.
That exhilarating joy hit different driving up the Pacific Coast Highway fueled with passion for what’s to come. Passion for the community I’m going to build. Passion for guiding people back to themselves through the breath. Passion to continue sharing my story to normalize anxiety and scanxiety and all the -xietys in between. Passion to help people quiet their trauma minds accordingly. As much as my newfound knowledge of off gassing and my leaking engine fueled the low, my biggest fear was the idea of my life getting blown up, again, right as I am finally feeling like I am both where I want to be and where I need to be.
The energy of the world is still heavy and weird right now. There’s so much light though. There always is. Consider this your bright reminder to keep moving forward with gratitude, grace, and compassion. It’s the reminder I needed. I’m here, I’m breathing, I’m healing. Now that I can stop spending so much of my energy convincing myself I am not dying, my focus can go back into my vision, my process, and my practice.
This excitement for life is abundant. This energy is expansive and I gotta share it. My calendar is back open for one on one sessions in August. Community classes will be back soon too. One day at a time. Can’t wait to hold the space for you all to be here, breathing, and healing.
