Hi Friends,
There is an iconic scene in the comedy Dude, Where’s My Car? where Ashton Kutcher orders food from a drive-through Chinese restaurant.
Here’s the clip (it’s short and will make this all make sense).
(And yes, parts of it wouldn’t be considered culturally appropriate today—but the lesson still applies.)
In the scene, Ashton places his order… and the voice on the speaker just keeps saying:
“And then.”
“And then.”
“And then.”
No matter what he says, it doesn’t stop.
He gets more and more frustrated… until he completely loses it and destroys the intercom.
I rewatched it recently, and it actually helped my SCANxiety as I wait for April 15th—the day I get the results of all three of my imaging studies.
Because I realized…
That’s exactly what my brain sounds like right now.
As I wait for the results of my brain MRI (done Thursday, still pending), my mind starts doing its own version of “and then,” except it sounds like:
What if the cancer has spread to your brain?
What if it’s metastasized outside of your lung?
What if you’re now stage four?
What if you’re incurable?
What if your doctors blame you for not doing aggressive treatment sooner?
What if you do the treatment and it doesn’t work… or makes everything worse?
And then.
And then.
And then.
It just keeps going.
And I noticed something:
There is no winning that conversation.
Playing the “what if” game is exactly like arguing with that drive-through speaker.
You don’t get an answer.
You don’t solve anything.
You just get more upset.
So now, when that voice in my head says, “What if?”
I answer with:
“Well… I guess I die.”
And oddly enough… it shuts up. 🤣
You can’t argue with a voice if you keep agreeing with it.
Now, I’m not saying my anxiety is gone. It’s not.
I understand it’s trying to protect me.
But there’s a difference between being aware… and being held hostage.
Because what’s worse than danger is living your life in a constant state of fear.
That’s no way to live.
Playing the “what if” game is suffering in advance—usually for things that never even happen.
Which reminds me of an old joke:
A man says to his friend,
“I’ve decided to stop worrying.”
The friend says, “That’s great! How did you do it?”
He says, “I hired a guy to do my worrying for me.”
Friend says, “You hired someone to worry for you?”
He says, “Yes. I pay him $1,000 a week.”
Friend says, “$1,000 a week?! How can you afford that?”
He says,
“That’s his problem.”
Wouldn’t it be great if we could really outsource our worrying? 🤣
Instead, we do it ourselves…usually about things that haven’t even happened yet.
And what I’ve learned these past three years on my cancer journey is this:
Dying is not the worst thing that can happen.
Living your life in a constant state of fear…and not really living at all—
that’s worse.
Love and then, (and then and then and then…),
Chef AJ
From the Puppy Files 🐾
These guys don’t seem to have ANY worries.
Trixie spent some time in the ER this week. She stepped on a bee and had an anaphylactic reaction—but she is recovering nicely.
