Here is the thing.

Cancer is a bogeyman.

Cancer waits around every corner, trying to scare me.

Just when I'm in the middle of something else, I hear the growling, "BOOOO!" and I practically pee myself in terror from the first sound.

I can calm myself down after that, but I can't control my initial adreneline surge; I can't control the sweep of fear that washes over me when I hear that growl.

I have learned to talk myself out of the tree. I have learned to sternly say to the bogeyman, "Get lost," as I hold my head up high and walk away. I've even kicked some bogeyman ass a few times, just to make my point.

But still, when I hear the growl, I also hear "Gotcha." The bogeyman knows how to get me, knows how to make my skin prickle with anxiety, how to make my heart race, how to confuse me, how to turn a happy moment into an unspeakable one.

Bone density. Teeth. Cholesteral. More and more surgery. Aches that might be something more. Pain picking things up, opening things, lifting my arm. All of them are bogeyman reminders.

Yes, it's a bad day.

Yes, tomorrow will be better.

Today, however, is hard.

(And I'm blowing through WW points like mad. I'm having a bowl of Dreyer's Light Ice Cream - made with half the fat - and ohhhhhhh it's yummy. I'm afraid to read the label....)