There's a Monster Hiding Under My Bed

Photo by Eric Von Bargen

Fear. At some point and time all of us can recall when we first became aware of fear. The time when we learned that the world was so much bigger than what was inside our of our warm, safe homes and much scarier to boot. Maybe we started asking our moms to leave the light on in the bathroom at night as we slept or perhaps we found ourselves sprinting and taking a flying leap onto our beds so that the monsters underneath wouldn't grab us and drag us under. Either way, most of us remember the first time we really felt afraid.

For me, it was when I was ten years old. I was a child of divorce and as such was thrust into very grown up roles from an early age. I suddenly found myself often alone at home in charge of my six year old brother while my single mother worked long hours to make ends meet. At night, when the clock struck six and my mother wasn't home as scheduled, my thoughts turned to worst case scenarios and I felt real fear. Instead of letting my baby brother know just how frightened I was that our mother wouldn't return, I invented a game. I called it "Counting Cars" and it was as simple as sitting on the porch in the dark with my brother and watching the cars go by.

"I'll bet you that one of the next three cars that drives by will be mom", I'd say, then we'd huddle and count the headlights together "One....Two.....Three" Then it'd be his turn and so on and so forth. Sometimes we would play this game for hours and she always did come home but I will never forget that fear and the need that I felt to protect my brother from it. The way I needed to make him laugh, make him believe he had the power to bring her home. That just by saying it out loud, would make it so.

It seems I'm not so different with my Cancer.

You see I am one of the lucky ones. My cancer is completely gone. The mastectomy took it all and according to my doctors the chances of it ever coming back in my breasts are next to nothing. But what I am left with is a terror that I cannot explain. The fear that if it's in my breast, why wouldn't be somewhere else as well? It is a fear that takes a small, very normal ovarian cyst for anyone else and turns it into full blown ovarian cancer in my mind. It sends my world into a tailspin of trans vaginal ultrasounds and CA125 tests that I am currently awaiting the results for and waiting is where the real fear lives. Not knowing is the terror in the night. The monster under the bed.

I can remember fear as a child. It hasn't changed much as an adult. I am still waiting, Counting Cars and hoping that the next phone call wont be my doctor telling me that I now have cancer somewhere else. Oh and as for protecting those around me from my fears? I'm still doing that as well. I'm writing this blog, I'm being there for other cancer patients and I'm trying to seem as much like the old me as I can.

But in my mind, when the night is dark and quiet, I find myself counting "One....Two...." and I hope that in a few days, I'll have the answers I need and that proverbial car will drive up and I will once again fell safe. That is of course until the next time.....