Maybe there is more?

Well, now that I have posted all of those email messages from last year, maybe I'll just keep on posting and updating because, what do you know? It doesn't end just because the treatments are done. There's some weird stuff that happens to your head after some time has gone by and it might be worth mentioning.

For example, I had kind of a panic attack a few weeks ago that I was thinking was just a strange, one-time thing, but then it happened again the other day when I posted all of those email messages. The first time it happened, it was this sort of a-ha! moment in which I suddenly realized that what I had last year wasn't just a bad case of the flu. Sheesh! I had cancer?! From the diagnosis all the way through treatment, I was so busy and very well-distracted that I successfully avoided the "big picture." So, when it hit me, I was sort of amused at having my mind bent like that. But it was more disturbing when it happened again on Friday, and I wonder if it has anything to do with the upcoming anniversary of my diagnosis.

I sort of approached cancer treatment the way I approached Ironman.  If you think about the entire Ironman event all at once, you'll freak out! Swim a couple of miles, cycle over a hundred miles and THEN run a marathon? Are you crazy?  But if you create a training plan that you have confidence in -- and realize that you have to be flexible with that plan because stuff happens -- you only have to focus on what needs to be done today, and you'll be fine.  When race day comes, you'll be ready both physically & mentally. So, during cancer treatments I kept that modified "training log" I wrote about. I just did what was right in front of me and didn't think much about the enormity of it. Not until it was all over.

But now, after the fact, I have had flash-backs. I see the whole thing all at once. And I can't believe I did all that. After Ironman, thinking back on the day was also overwhelming. The crucial difference is that Ironman is something I wanted to do. Something I have souvenirs from. I even got the tattoo. Cancer treatment is something I was forced to do against my will. It is possibly -- obviously -- the very last thing I ever would have wanted to do. For some reason there is no sense of accomplishment. Maybe if there were, I could stop having these panic attacks. But thoughts like that would feel arrogant. I wince when someone says, "you beat cancer!" Shhhhh . . .  I like the idea of challenging myself again in long-distance triathlon, but I have no desire to challenge cancer again with arrogant thoughts. I'm planning to sign up for another Ironman, but I don't ever want to see cancer again. That's the difference.

I know! ha! Maybe if I think of it as, "beating cancer treatment!" that would have the effect I am looking for? Can I be proud of that without feeling arrogant or like I am challenging it to a rematch? Hmmn . . .