I'm Anti Invasive Anything! Gardening and Post Cancer Treatment Life #PTSD #BCSM

 

Today I was in my garden, which is tiny but the plants are thriving; so much so that my cucumber plant is now encroaching on my flowering red bell pepper plant. This morning I was checking the garden plants for nefarious invaders and I found cabbage worms! Picture me looking at my cauliflower plant above, seeing all the holes, and frowning. Then I look closely at the leaves and bam!  A green worm!  On my leaf! First of all, this is why I don’t plant cruciferous vegetables, and second of all, how dare invasive disease attack my garden! 

Cue my outsized stress reaction to the garden pests. Yes, cancer trauma here we go again. First I put on some gloves, then I went inside and got a plastic knife,  and then I eradicated the worms. I serial-killed five of them, and I think there were either eggs or poop down on the budding leaves so I scrapped that off the plant. I’m glad I only have one plant. I don’t know that I will be planting cauliflower in the future, I don’t like murdering bugs almost as much as I don’t like, cue my waving my hands around, another reason to have some PTSD. 

After I killed the worms I found, I did a google search to find out if there was anything I could do to not have cabbage worms. First I learned that it’s supposed to be too early in the season for the worms and second I learned that if I put down diatomaceous earth that might help. 

Tricky how trauma can creep up on a person. Imagine what it will be like for people of this earth over the next decade given all the trauma the pandemic inflicted.  We are going to see so many different ways people try and cope--and plenty of that will be bad. It's a fine time as any to try to be kind because you don't know what people are dealing with when you run into them. 

Last thought for this post, later this afternoon, after I had reflected on invasive disease in my garden is just too on the nose a metaphor for the stress of cancer treatment,

I decided if I find more worms I'm going to scoop them up and then put them out for the plentiful birds in my backyard to eat!

How the Garden Started...

How the garden is going... just three weeks later! Looking great except for invasive pests! 

On Mindfulness- Based Stress Reduction, Dumb Things My Brain Tells Me

 The entire reason I took the online Mindfulness-Based Stress Reduction class in March was that I’ve known since January  I would need to have a surveillance CT scan before April 6th. The MBSR class was another tool I was pretty desperate to add to my mental health toolbox.   And as I have writing about previously, these measures have actually been helpful, which is fantastic because CBD oil and THC doesn’t work for me—a bummer since here in Illinois pot is legal and I would definitely get some cannabis gummies if they would reduce my anxiety. 

There are four days until the scan and currently, I rate my scanxiety as a 5 on a scale of 1-10. The kicker is that it’s not the actual scan that completely melts my brain, it's the time between when the scan is done and when I hear the results. Ack, just typing that sentence moves me up to a 6 of 10.  

The scanxiety will really ramp up on the night before the scan and the day of the scan, then once the scan is over it will drop. The worse time will be during business hours after the scan. At any moment my phone might show the doctor’s number as an incoming call and I won’t be able to hardly breath. Fun fact, since I won that Fitbit from the library, this time I will be able to see exactly how much my blood pressure spikes before the scan and when I get the results. 

As I was writing this post, I found my brain created a new trick to slip past some of my new coping mechanisms. Now my brain is telling me, I should be worried about the scan, because maybe worrying about it is what will make me have good results. In other words, I need to mentally suffer in order to earn a clean scan. How bonkers is that! I mean, top-notch terrible rationalizations there from my brain. So I am noticing this thought and I am allowing it to float on by as I remind myself:

Thoughts are not facts. Say it again: Thoughts are not facts.

On Mindfulness Based Stress Reduction, I Didn't Used To Be Like This!

Post #2 in My Series of posts sharing me navigating the minefield of my own mind post-cancer treatment. 

Tree beginning to flower on a recent walk. 

 As I work on practicing Mindfulness and living life post-cancer treatment, I am slowly realizing a few things. For example, I’ve been operating from the idea that my medical anxiety and fears started when I was diagnosed with cancer, but now that I have distance from those early days I look back and realize that’s not quite true. When I got ‘the call’ it was more of a ‘crap I knew it!’ moment than a surprise. 

At first, when I was still a cancer newbie, I thought it wouldn’t be that bad. Maybe I wouldn’t even need chemo and I was sure I’d be fine. I wasn’t worried that it could kill me. I wasn’t worried when I had my surgery, and I wasn’t even worried when I found out I had the BRCA-2 gene. I still had great confidence that I would be cured, even finding out I’d need chemo, didn’t rock me. 

What destroyed my confidence in my body was the bone scan. I didn’t think they would find anything, just another test to hurdle over, no big deal—my biggest problem was I’d be starting chemo soon and that stupid stuff was going to make my hair fall out. 

I was in the walkway from the hospital to the parking garage when my Medical Oncologist called me to say that my bone scan results were in and that everything was good BUT there was one tiny spot on my pelvis and she wanted me to get an MRI. That was the moment all confidence drained from my body. It has not yet returned—even though once I had the MRI the tiny spot was ruled to be a bony island. If you are going to have a bony something an island is what you want to have. 

It’s funny how something so small and something that turned out not to be anything ‘bad’ completely destroyed the confidence I had in my body for decades. It’s also wild that having come to the realization of how much that phone call rocked my world—so not in a good way—knowing the genesis of my fear is helping me to worry less. Not having a psychology degree, I do not understand why this has made a difference, but I will definitely accept any reduction in medical anxiety!