In my last post I shared that this was scan season, the three months of the year when scans are done to update my health status. First scan up was a mammogram on my remaining breast. Everything was normal with no sign of more cancer. I breathe a sigh of relief. Next scan up was my heart scan. These scan results show that my heart function has decreased and numbers that measure things like velocity of blood flow are up and pressure in my left ventricle are down. I’m not surprised by this and yet the results elicit a myriad of emotions, including fear. Fear, because I know these numbers have moved the dial on when I have my transplant surgery.

And this begins the emotional dance that sometimes comes with scan season. I am unsure of what to do with the emotions. The therapist in me says that I should attend to them and honor them with self-compassion. The patient in me says that I should look for something I could change to slow the march toward surgery. The part of me that sees the sand quickly running through the hour glass wants me to ignore all of it and just focus on living in the moment. Another part of me, the voice of wisdom, encourages me to do a combination of all of them.

And while I am choreographing my own emotional dance, I am aware that these latest results create emotions for the people I love. When I look in their eyes, I sometimes see that my fear mirrors theirs. But I also understand the need to push that fear to the edges of their consciousness. Sometimes their need to avoid these painful feelings leaves me feeling alone on this journey. And while I experience the loneliness, it is important for me to not take their avoidance as a sign that they do not care. In fact, my wife would argue that her deep love for me is what makes looking into the abyss of possibly losing me unbearable. When I think of this, I don’t feel lonely, but a sense of relief that she is able to find solace in evading that reality.

I am sure you can see that these conflicted thoughts and emotions leave my dance moves messy and awkward and difficult to perform. But given some time, my dance will incorporate new moves and new themes. Themes of gratitude for still being alive. Themes of a deep desire to spend the moments of my life filled with purpose, strength, and courage. Themes of appreciating the little moments that fill my heart with love and joy. These themes will not show up in my dance today. But someday soon.

Be well, my dear readers.