I guess this had to happen, though I am feeling better after phone calls with two good friends earlier today. You fight your way through treatment, get that done, fight your way through the physical hell of its effects, start the long, slow recovery and then your focus shifts to the next step. But that next step is weeks away, you are totally exhausted and there is nothing to be done except wait. That next step consists of a scan to see whether the treatment has worked. The potential for paranoia and for catastrophising is just enormous and exhaustion makes it all the harder to resist. It has had its effect on me over the last few days, I must confess.
In the good old MIddle Ages, Limbo was basically the temporary state of those who, despite the sins they may have committed, died in the friendship of God but could not enter heaven until redemption by Jesus made it possible. Well, sins aplenty I have committed, but I just can't make myself believe that Jesus, nice guy though he is, is going to come and save me! (Though I would have nothing against it. What would I say to him? "Hey man, good to see you! But could you also help me with this beard? I used to have one just like yours man, but the damned radiotherapy has wiped out my facial hair ...." Ah, if only.... )
But the only thing that can release me from Limbo is a clear scan, not Jesus. And I have to wait weeks for the result. And as I write I realise that even a good clear scan ain't gonna deliver me really. I have to be pronounced clear for five years before I am truly out of Limbo. Ah, the potential for paranoia and negative thinking is enormous! How to deal with that? Millions have walked this path before me, so I guess I just have to get out there and search for the wisdom some of them must have left behind...
