Posted in health

Meltdown

Photo credit: StuartMiles

Every few months, it happens. Despite having the skills to guide myself through it and to navigate around it, I find myself sucked into the black abyss of torture that our minds tend to inflict on us.

Because I know how to avoid it, it makes it all the more frustrating. I know it’s nonsense, yet I helplessly allow myself to fall into its grasp.

Since I normally have a very positive attitude, when I have a meltdown, it tends to take my family by surprise. As I’ve written before, I usually have my shit together. I help others get their shit together!

Yes, I have cancer. Yes, it’s stage 4. Yes, the past couple of scans have shown a decrease in the size in my lungs and, recently, my bones. But yes, whenever it’s scan time again, my nerves get the better of me.

I almost conquered it this time. I tried various breath techniques, then a yin yoga practice for anxiety, for which I switched out some yin poses with restorative poses, then more breath work and a positive affirmation guided meditation.

And yet, I allowed the doubts to sneak in.

I had travelled an hour for my immunotherapy treatment that day, only to be told it was cancelled. No one had called me and I couldn’t pin anyone down with a definitive answer as to why. I had my oncologist appointment the next day, during which I knew I’d be getting my recent scan results.

Logically, I knew that the immunotherapy was likely cancelled due to my recent colitis attack and that the doctor wanted to make sure I had healed from that. But, my mind insisted on thinking that there was something bad in the scans that triggered the cancellation. I fought it, but in the end, it won, and I was convinced that the cancer had spread.

I know that one day, this will be my reality. That’s what really sucks. The day will come when I’m given that news. It could be at my next scan in 5 or 6 months, or in 5 or 6 years, or 15. But the day will come. Every time I am waiting for my scan results, I come face to face with my own mortality.

This is where yoga and meditation have come to my aid. I can usually push these type of thoughts to the far recesses of my mind. Neither the past nor the future exist, only the here and now. For 362 or 363 days a year, this helps me. The remaining days, I’m thankful for Lorazepam.

For anyone suffering from anxiety, here’s one of my favourite breath techniques, alternate nostril breathing (Anuloma Viloma in Sanskrit). This only takes a few minutes to do and helps to cleanse the mind and balance the right and left sides of our brain.

I was taught to inhale for a count of 4, hold for 8 and exhale for 8 and this is how I still do it. This article mentions holding for a count of 16, which might be a bit difficult for beginners.

https://www.doyouyoga.com/how-to-do-anuloma-viloma-or-alternate-nostril-breathing/

In the end, my scans were fine and, as I ultimately knew, the reason for the cancelation was simply my doctor erring on the side of caution, wanting to ensure that the colitis had cleared up.

My deep despair was for nothing, and life goes on.

Photo credit: Ed Gregory

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