💥Scan-xiety Is Real (And So Is the Joy on the Other Side)
The fear, the wait, the relief; this is what it really feels like to live scan to scan.
People who haven't been through it don't always understand.

But if you've had cancer, especially stage 4, then you know.
You know what it means to live between scans. You know the dread, the pretending, the steely mask of optimism you wear for everyone else. And you know how the smallest email notification or a ringing phone can send your heart racing.
Welcome to the emotional rollercoaster called scan-xiety.

💥 The Brave Face and the Private Battle
When your life is finally feeling like it's back on track. When you're laughing again, working again, dreaming again and then, it's time for another CT scan… the fear hits.
You smile.
You say, "I'm sure everything will be fine."
But deep down, you know what's really at stake.
I know because I've lived it. I'm six years post-stage 4 cancer. I've had two major surgeries, chemo, and enough scans to start my own radiology wing.
For the first five years, my scans were every three months. Eventually, they moved to once a year.
Then recently, something small showed up. So back to three months. Again.
And with every scan comes that nagging question:
What if it's back?

💥Cancer Is a Hypocrite
My mom died of cancer: non-Hodgkin's lymphoma.
She used to say, "Cancer is a hypocrite."
One day you're fine. The next, you're not.
So yes, even when I feel great, I get scared. Because I've lived what happens when the news is bad. I know the drill: more tests, treatments, hard conversations, rearranging your whole life overnight.
Scan-xiety isn't just nervousness.
It's lived experience. It's trauma. It's memory.
It's knowing what's on the other side of bad news.

💥And Then...the Results
And then there's the moment.
You open your email.
You refresh your health portal.
You wait for your oncologist's call.
And you hear the words:
"Stable."
"Clear."
"No evidence of disease."
You cry. You laugh. You collapse into yourself and then explode with joy.
You thank the universe, your body, your doctor, your ancestors, your angels.
You are still here.
And that joy? That joy is as real as the fear ever was.
Maybe even more real.

💥Feel the Fear and Do the Scan Anyway
This is what I've learned:
You have to feel the fear.
And then you do the scan anyway.
Because that's what courage is.
Scan after scan, year after year.
You keep showing up.
We keep showing up.

💥This Is What Living Looks Like
I don't want to just survive anymore. I want to live, fully, loudly, joyfully.
So if you're in the middle of this journey. If you're heading into a scan. If you're waiting on results…
Know this:
You are not alone.
You are brave beyond words.
You are stronger than fear.
And you have every right to dance in the streets when the news is good.
Because we're not just survivors.
We are warriors of hope.
We are living proof.
We are still here.
Thank you for being here with me today.
If this resonated with you, please share it with someone in the waiting room, someone newly diagnosed, someone quietly terrified.
Because scan-xiety is real.
But so is hope.
And so is healing.