Yesterday, I was in the waiting room for my radiation appointment when I was aimlessly scrolling Facebook. I came across a post about one of my former high school basketball teammates. She had just passed away from a two-year battle with colorectal cancer. I had only read the first two lines of the post, but that was all I needed for my brain to start spiraling out of control. I didn’t have time to read the whole post because I was called back for radiation. Walking back, I could feel my body start to freak out. My heart was racing, the fears were coming and I was struggling. As I lay on the radiation table, I worked to control my brain. I went through my gratitude list. I told my body to calm down and relax. I envisioned myself in perfect health on the beaches of Hawaii with my family. I got out of radiation and finished reading the post and then I started to wonder what will be different for me? What makes my treatment any different than my friend? I cried on the way home. I communicated to Chris about my friend. He was understanding and supportive. So this morning, I did what any mature adult would do: I picked a fight with Chris about finances. My go-to controls: 1. finances and 2. my diet. My diet is going really well thanks to my “team” who makes delicious fat bombs that taste like Almond Joy’s and Reece’s peanut butter cups and who send me manageable recipes and ideas to fit a craving. Naturally, let’s argue about finances. But I could recognize that this argument about finances had nothing to do with money and everything to do with my fear. The what ifs are overwhelming. The what ifs are a slippery slope to mentally pull myself out of. Fear, I have learned, is the number one inhibitor to healing. Instead of focusing on my fears, it has been a conscious effort to re-direct my brain’s focus. To have hope. To be thankful for today. To be grateful for Good Friday. To hold hugs a little longer. To open cards and be encouraged by my family and friends. This week was a good week of treatment but this shit is hard. But using the motto we tell our kids…my name is Liz and I can do hard things.

Liz