Nerves.

The entire time I underwent treatment for cancer, never once did I worry about dying. I was upset about things, of course. But most of that revolved around the aesthetics of being sick, feeling sick, looking sick. Death was never really a concern.

Something changed about that once I got better.

I get nervous all the time now of a recurrence. Even though this May will be five years since I went into remission, the timeline of which most certainly signals your official cure for lymphoma. Here's the funny thing: the more nervous I am of a recurrence, the less likely I am to get checked.

Perhaps it's a fear of the unknown. Perhaps I don't want to do treatment again and ignoring the issue seems the easiest way to ensure that. Perhaps this fear, this paranoia of death, came to the surface after my friend died. I'm not sure really.

I made an appointment today for a checkup. I'm actually long over due. My last came in December of 2008. When my appointment came around last year in July, I missed it on purpose, angry at the billing mistakes from the previous year that cost me so much for a scan that I'm told I need annually (and probably do). When December rolled around, I just decided it wasn't worth doing...that if something was wrong I would know it. Recently, however, being so tired and generally feeling not my best, it seems smart to get a checkup if for no other reason than to reassure myself.

I'm running about eight months late on my checkup, but I'm getting past the nerves to get it done.

Let's all be happy when it's over and I was unjustifiably worried yet again. :)

(P.S. The appointment isn't until early February, so I'll keep you posted then, but I'm sure I'm just fine as a dandelion.)