Catastrophizing

I mentioned in another post about the nerve blocks that I had for a few days post-op as part of my pain management, and how they were removed somewhat suddenly, and how anxious that made me.  At that point, I had had enough of pain -- every little thing that had to happen prompted the question "Will it hurt?"  And knowing that those blocks made a difference, I was especially worried I would plummet into some awful dark place where no drug could save me.

I said this in so many words to the anesthesiologist who was there to take them out.  After assuring me that removing the small catheters wouldn't hurt a bit (it didn't) she told me about catastrophizing.  I had never heard of this before.  She told me, in a very direct and no-nonsense way, that this was not a path I wanted to go down, that always expecting the worst pain could really mess with your mind and potentially exaggerate how I experience pain, how it could turn into a chronic condition.  She said all this while tending to the task at hand and let me know there was quite a bit of literature on the subject, if I was interested.

And when she was finished, she stayed for another ten minutes and gave me this awesome pep talk.  I'm not sure she intended to but that's definitely what it felt like.  She validated my anxiety to a certain extent; I can still see her standing in front of me, exclaiming, "Of course you're going to have some pain - they cut you up!"  Then she talked about believing in your body's ability to heal, your ability to tolerate more than you think you can, your capacity to handle discomfort and pain when it happens, and not falling into the trap of expecting it to happen all the time.  It sounds cheesy but her primary advice was to believe in yourself - to have confidence that the pain will not last forever, that you can manage it, that you will heal, and to believe this deep down and view each day of recovery (and beyond) through this lens.

I've been thinking about her a lot the last couple of days.  I think I am nearly over my recovery hump, mostly because I'm thinking less about how I'll get through each day and more about the future.  Soon I will have a new start date for chemotherapy and I'm already worried about what will happen when they push a bunch of toxic chemicals into my body.  Maybe not pain, per se, but other side affects that will be tiring or annoying or uncomfortable or weird or scary, or all of the above.  But there isn't any sense in worrying about it; whatever is going to happen will happen.  If I want to eliminate the disease it's something I need to do. 

I also know it's normal to be anxious and scared and depressed -- it's not even two months since the first visit to the ER, so much has happened and changed, so suddenly -- that's plenty to mess with your mind.  I'm having my fair share of tears.  And I'm trying to remember that hopefully this is the beginning of the end of this craziness.  I'd love for whomever is reading this to help me remember that, too.