The first big trip Bill and I went on as a couple was to the Cayman Islands. It was a romantic island vacation, and we finally got the honeymoon we had skipped 15 years earlier. One of the things we did there was to take a boat with a bunch of other tourists to snorkel. I had a few terrifying experiences with water as a teenager, and the ocean was not one of my favorite places, but I was a decent swimmer and I figured I could enjoy it. Twenty feet away from the boat on the open ocean, however, I learned what a panic attack was. They dragged me back on board and calmed me down.

Eventually I put on a life jacket and was able to venture into the water again (closer to the boat this time). I was even able to dip my face a few inches into the water to see the fish that swam near the surface. It was nothing like Bill’s experience, where he dove among the schools of fish and pet the sharks and stingrays, but it was better than shaking and hyperventilating on the boat.

Fear is a very real thing.

In about 5 weeks, I’ll be having a Stem Cell (or Bone Marrow) Transplant (BMT). Bill and I have been trying to prepare for that time by learning about the process and watching the videos that UMKC provides to help patients and their caregivers understand it. It has been really helpful, but I think I’m preparing for the fight of my life. I’m equal parts dreading it and annoyed by it. The possibilities for serious complications are very real, and the limitations and weakness for many months afterward are just plain irritating

I’d better get some good years of remission out of this transplant or I’m going to be Very. Put. Out.

Although it is the best option for driving the cancer away and keeping it at bay for a longer time, it is a very serious and risky process. My cancer is “high risk” because of a genetic mutation, and on top of that, I have Primary Immune Deficiency. Those two issues take this treatment to a new level of danger for me. I have prayed to know that it is the right thing to do, and it is. But I have been very distracted lately by fear, and it has been robbing me of the peace, inspiration, clarity and joy I’ve felt previously. Fear has left me feeling tossed with every wave that has washed around me for the past several weeks. I’m not hyperventilating, but it feels like I’m barely dipping my face into the surface of the joy and beauty that have been all around me, because I can’t take my mind off the waves.

I decided last week that I am going to stop being afraid. The decision alone was liberating! It didn’t take away the seriousness of what I’m facing, but it does allow me to move onto more productive and positive ways of processing it all. Of course, I have to replace that fear with something else, so I’ve recommitted more time and focus on what always brings me peace: filling my mind with the words of Christ.

I was re-reading my study journal this morning. When I first got this cancer diagnosis, I did a great deal of study about hope (and I’ve written a lot about it in other blog posts). I read in Ether 12:4 again, “Wherefore, whoso believeth in God might with surety hope for a better world, yea, even a place at the right hand of God, which hope cometh of faith, maketh an anchor to the souls of men, which would make them sure and steadfast, always abounding in good works, being led to glorify God.

I really need an anchor.

I do believe in God. I hope for a better world and feel assured of that. I have faith and trust in Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ; that they know what I need, and they will give me the strength to fight this and any battle. They are my anchor, giving me the ability to be sure and steadfast and do good works, instead of being consumed with dread, leaving me weak and powerless. And regardless of how this all goes, I will glorify God. He loves me, and somehow, all these things will be for my good.