It snuck out

Even though I try my best to shove cancer into the background of my life and carry on with contentment and purpose, sometimes it sneaks out when I least expect it. Then I get scared.

Last night was one of those nights. After a fabulous evening at a Survivor-finale party, I noticed my ribs hurt and my stomach felt slightly extended, so my mind automatically jumped to the conclusion the ascities was back. Never mind there are logical reasons for those very conditions. I swam 50 lengths of the pool yesterday afternoon and I've overindulged in holiday treats over the past while. Those two conditions could create that sore, full feeling.

But the cancer snuck out from under its hiding place in my mind and toyed with me. "This could be your last Christmas," it mocked. "So enjoy those precious children now."

"Yeah, make the most of everything because it's fleeting," it sniggered.

"Your husband is here beside you and all looks rosy, but just you wait," it warned.

"Don't you even think about running that Survivor pool for next season because I'm going to consume your life again soon," it advised. (I thought about doing exactly that when someone hinted I should run one again.)

The bad, scared, lonely feelings tumbled out before I could stop them. I envisioned having to go through chemotherapy again, and the pain and depression that accompanies it. I felt sad about the tension and worry cancer's return would bring to all those around me.

I know my prognosis is poorer the sooner the cancer returns and I'm so afraid my window will be short. I know there are still lots of treatments the doctors can do, but I don't want to have to go through them. I want to stay healthy and normal.

I'm scared.

I'm sorry if I'm bringing you down during Christmas week. I know these feelings will be fleeting and I'll push cancer back in its place so I can enjoy all that my life has to offer. But I have to acknowledge these feelings when they rise to the surface so I can deal with them. That's the only way I can cope.

Tina