It’s been 1 year and a half since the end of my treatment. I expected everything to be over the moment I stepped out of the hospital for the last time. Joy and celebration - and for a while it was.

But then came the anxiety. Nothing as dramatic as panic attacks or sleeplessness. Just a low-level hum, spiking up whenever there I felt the slightest physical discomfort. Was it back? Had the bad cells somehow survived, and migrated to different places of my body, to germinate and take root, only announcing their presence when they’ve grown to disrupt whatever function or tickle the nearest nerve ending.

This feeling was mentioned in the NHS brochures “Losing trust in your body” - trust in your body’s beneficence, its cells overall will to help you, to help processes along, to heal whatever’s gone wrong or whatever’s been broken. It’s become a double agent, with you but also possibly working against you in the long run.

I paid attention to food provenance, make-up composition, soaps, air pollution, hydration etc etc. I gradually stopped drinking alcohol, only very occasionally indulging in a single glass of wine. I exercise, do yoga, make sure I get sleep, basicallly an boring and a little anal. Not that I considered it to be a solid insurance - I’d been reasonable before after all, and it didn’t save me then.

Eventually, I ended up going to the GP with whatever worried me at the time, who then in turn sent me on to have various scans to check whether any fears were justified. If anything, the readiness of the GP to give me referrals on demand freaked me out even more - how probable was a secondary?

But one by one, the scans can back normal. Month slipped by almost unnoticed, life was filled with small mundane events. I felt mostly fine, or at least as fine as an active person in their mid fourties feels. I can’t pin-point the exact moment, but at one point it dawned on me that I may be ok. Finally I relaxed, and dared to hope. I could think of other things, plan for the future, watch my daughter grow up.

Against that feeling, minor mishaps are insignificant. I’m enjoying it while it lasts.