once burned

I have been trying very hard to think positively this week.

This was greatly helped by my naturopath who walked me through a terrrific relaxation exercise. And for the rest of this week, I have been dutifully repeating, "Every day and in ever way, I am getting better and better," along with the more cumbersome, "Negative thoughts and negative feelings do not influence me at any level of my mind."

And it's been working.

Until today.

Today I heard that insistent voice that started as a whisper and built to a roar, the voice that reminds me that I was pretty damn positive when I first went through treatment and before I knew that the cancer had metastasized.

A fat lot of good it did me then.

But it is not helpful to imagine my tumours growing, imagine myself sick from a more toxic chemo regimen, imagine myself dying.

Or to imagine trying to explain to my children that Mama is dying.

Not helpful at all.

Mind you, I do believe in the value of a good meltdown and wish that tears came to me more easily.

But dwelling on the unthinkable does not help me cope with stress.

And there is some evidence that positive thought can actually help with healing.

So....all together now: "Every day and in every way, I am getting better and better."

Ultrasound results tomorrow.