Yes, this is a real issue.

In recent years it has also become recognised as a genuine mental health issue for some people.

Everybody’s different and for some it can be quite mild and for others it can be full on.

Regardless, though, waiting for scans and the results can be very stressful. They create a lot of anxiety and fear because, let’s be honest, they could be telling you if you are going to live or die.

Some people can experience the anxiety before, during and after the scan. That anxiety will continue through until they get the results, and possibly afterwards as well.

This anxiety can cause restlessness, trouble with sleeping, depression, moodiness, sweating, increased heart rate, and lightheadedness. I could go on with other symptoms but I’m sure you get the picture. In extreme cases it can cause PTSD. This normally occurs because cancer patients are continually having to have scans, and it is possible that it was a scan that revealed the cancer in the first place. So for a lot of patients every scan causes them to relive those moments.

Waiting for results is difficult. Has my cancer spread, is it getting better, has it been stoped in its tracks, am I in remission, has the cancer come back? Am I worse or better than the last scan? The build up to waiting for results, to put it bluntly, is bloody awful.

I’m writing this in the build up to getting my results.

I don’t get scanxiety before or during a scan. I cope with that part quite well. It has to be done, so I just put my head down and do it. It’s not fun going in and out of a machine. Being pumped intravenously full of dye that makes you feel like you’ve wet yourself, for a CT scan. Having radioactive sugar pumped through your veins, and whole system, for a PET scan. But it has to be done so I just get on and do it. However, I know for others that this can be a very difficult process.

My anxiety comes waiting for the results.

The results are tomorrow. Wednesday 26th April. The big day.

The first set of results since I started my treatment regime. Is it working, am I getting better, or worse? I’ve put so much effort into my treatment, diet, health, both mental and physical. I can feel the weight of expectation on my shoulders. I’m a bit more grumpy than normal, more on edge and probably a bit flat. My wife and daughter have to put up with this side of me, even though they don’t deserve it. They have been amazing and I know they are just as scared about these results as I am.

Fortunately the appointment with the haematologist is at 8.30am. Get in early, get the results and spend the rest of the day processing it. Good or bad.

And, yes, I will let you all know too. But not on the day of the results, and probably not Thursday either. I might put something on Facebook and Instagram on Friday, but more likely Saturday. Don’t ask me before then because I probably won’t answer. This is part of how I cope.

Different people cope in different ways when it comes to scanxiety. I can’t tell you what others do but I can tell you what I do. I would say that if you suffer from scanxiety talk to someone about it, ask for help if you’re not coping. There are also a lot of websites that offer good advice. It’s real and you don’t need to feel alone with it. Likewise no one, be they near or far, has a right to tell you how you should feel about it. They should be supporting you, not tearing you down. They should be asking you what they can do to help, not telling you what they’re going to do. There is a difference.

To all the wonderful people out there who want to help those with cancer, and related issues like scanxiety, ask. It’s not up to you to decide what help people need, it’s up to you to ask them what help they need. That’s important. Ask, talk about it, respect their decisions. Don’t push them because you’ll do more harm than good. It’s called having a discussion, talking about it, finding out what will really help. It’s about the person with cancer, it’s not about you.

I cope by switching off. That can be meditation, watching tv, playing video games, hanging out with friends and not talking about it, watching my football team, listening to music, reading and even going for a walk.

The day before, which is today, I don’t want to be around anyone other than Danielle, my wife and Kael, my daughter. I don’t want to talk to anyone, even on the phone. I wouldn’t be very good company anyway. I just want to be left alone. That’s what works for me. I might answer text or private social media messages but equally I may not. So please don’t be upset if I don’t respond. I’m putting myself first and that’s that.

I understand that as soon as I get the results everyone else will want to know, but some of you will have to wait. I won’t be talking to anyone on the day of the results, except for health professionals and my wife and daughter. I will message immediate family, but that will be it. I’m sure Danielle will let a few people know as well, but it will be limited.

I may not even want to talk to people the day after, Thursday, especially if I’m not coping very well. This may sound weird but I might not cope with a good result just as much as a bad one. I’ll be coming down off the adrenaline high and my emotions will be all over the place. Friday I’ll be more with it I think, and by Saturday I’ll be prepared to face the world again.

I will reiterate this again. Please don’t feel you are being ignored, or that you’re not wanted just because I don’t respond over the next few days. Don’t take it personally, just be patient. This is how I’m coping and you just need to respect that.

So here we go again. Off on the roller coaster ride of emotions. Roll on 8.30am tomorrow morning and let’s get this out of the way. Then I can start planning what I’m going to do about where I’m heading.

Till then I shall reacquaint myself with Lara Croft and do some virtual Tomb Raiding. Probably followed by making dinner and having some family time with Danielle and Kael.

Life goes on so enjoy it people. I’ll see you on the other side in a few days.

Big love,

Jon