Don't Google It

It's the middle of the afternoon.  You are done all your work.  All your important work anyway.  You are waiting for decisions, and there is not much progress you can make until you get them.  You've made some headway on your correspondence, but correspondence can be mind-numbing at best, if not soul squashing.  You have nobody to talk to - because everyone around is busy and deadly quiet.  You've already read the Globe and Mail. 

Something triggers you.

What's a girl to do?

I know I shouldn't. I usually don't. But sometimes I just can't help it and I google the kind of cancer I had. A cancer mentor had warned me against it. The Internet is not your friend, she had said firmly.

I know, but sometimes, the Internet is the only friend I have. 

I feel that I need to know more about my cancer. I feel like Dr. H kept it very high level - on a need to know basis, thinking I didn't need to know very much. I know I shouldn't know too much.

Nonetheless, sometimes my fingers have a will of their own.

And what I read scares the hell out of me! I see that my diagnosis is so rare that there is very little information about it.  The few academic papers warn against accepting it at face value.

I can't even write the other things they say about it. 

I feel like I am watching a scary movie by myself but just can't make myself stop.

Someone finally talks to me and I snap out of it.

Walking home, I know that Dr. H didn't just take it at face value.  She either removed or biopsied every possible organ and lymph node that she could.

But she can't give me what I want, which is certainty.  I know that there is no certainty, so I just have to make every moment count.

Sometimes it is a lot of pressure to try to make every moment count - especially when so much is not in my control.  I can only control how I respond.  I can only control how I am.

But a little encouragement from the universe for me and my family and friends would, of course, help!