They call it "scanxiety"

 And if I hear it again, I'll scream. I hate cutesy words for things that aren't cute at all. 

I have a CT scan on my chest tomorrow, and I know I'm going to have to wait another week at least for the results. In that time, well-meaning family and friends are going to ask me every day whether I've heard something back or not, thereby not letting me just live in the moment and maybe forget about it. I get it; They're worried and want to know. But I'm going to have to spend this week in agony not knowing whether Everolimus and Exemestane fucked me up so bad that the pneumonitis it caused has been cleared up or if it's permanent.

If it's permanent, I have 1-3 years left to live at the very most, where I'll be on oxygen and doing breathing therapy. That's not including the fact that my cancer alone gives me a 45.31% chance of making it to Fall 2027.

Pretty grim, huh? Not really time for a cutesy word like "scanxiety." I feel like most sane people would prefer the term "existential crisis." But no one wants to think about that in the pink cloud of hope. Those thoughts and feelings are too double-plus-un-good for the cancer centre.

So get up tomorrow, put on your favourite metal-free outfit, be pleasant, make small talk, and don't forget to smile while the machine determines how much longer you have with your kids. It's just scanxiety.