Live another year

Once a year, and thankfully only once a year, I have to visit my local oncologist and today was that day. She's a nice enough person, and a good doctor, but I dread this appointment nonetheless.  Truth be told, deep down I know I'll very likely receive the same news as last year; "You're slightly anemic, but your blood counts are holding steady and nothing has changed."  This is, truly, good news.  I get to live another year. But no matter how optimistic I am that each year will be the same, there's still a part of me that wonders if this will be the year I instead hear "your white blood counts have gone through the roof and we need to find out if it's spreading." They say that day might not ever come, but also that it could.  It could be next year, or in 5 years, or 20, or never.  And until then, I live in one-year increments.  I get to live another year, but what about the year after that or the next one after that?

I spend a fair amount of time in between these annual visits reminding (convincing?) myself that if it was spreading I'd know it.  I would feel different.  Something would hurt.  I'd be exhausted (well, I am but I know it's from hard training and not getting enough sleep).  I wouldn't feel good after eating.  Something.  I like to think that I know my body pretty well and am pretty tuned into what is going on after all these years and especially the years of running and training and listening to my body every single day.  But would I? Would I really have some warning?  Or will I one day show up at my yearly appointment and have the surprise sprung on me that not all is as good as I had thought?  I don't obsess over it (well, maybe a little because I am the obsessive type), but it's always just kind of there in the back of my mind.  And I go to my yearly appointment, and I see the people in the waiting area, or receiving treatment, and I think "that's probably going to be me some day."

And that, that, is why I run.  That is why I train and push my body.  That is why I try to eat as healthy as I can (and organic as much as possible).  I have to do what I can, whether it actually helps or not, to try to decrease my odds of getting that bad news because I've got a lot of life left to experience and things I want to do.