Are you living your life waiting for the other shoe to drop? If you’ve had cancer, your brain’s threat radar got turned up to max. A twinge in your back? Must be metastasis. A headache? Clearly a tumor. And with every scan on the calendar, the countdown starts. That’s not “being dramatic.” That’s just your nervous system doing its job a little too well after real trauma. But here’s the good news: you can teach it new rules.

Start with a 10‑second pattern interrupt. The moment you notice the “what if” spiral, plant your feet and say (out loud if you can): “I’m safe enough right now.” Then do a box breath—inhale for a count of 4, hold for 4, exhale for 4, and hold for 4—three times. Short. Simple. It slows the adrenaline surge so you can think again.

Next, separate fear from facts. Grab your notes app and make two quick columns: “Story” vs. “Data.” Story: “This ache means recurrence.” Data: “Ache started after a long flight; eased with stretching; last scan clear.” Your brain respects receipts. Keep an “evidence log” you can revisit when the anxiety narrator gets loud. Or, Story: "I woke up with a headache and I remember something about morning headaches being a symptom of brain tumors." Data: "I stayed up too late last night and I'm short on sleep," or "I've been a little stressed about a big project and it might be a tension headache."

Run the 90‑Second Wave. When a fear surge hits, set a 90‑second timer and name it: “This is fear in my chest.” Track the sensation—temperature, size, edges—without adding story. Most spikes crest and fall quickly when you stop feeding them with catastrophizing. When the timer ends, choose one regulating action: sip water, step outside for light, or hum for 30 seconds to stimulate your vagus nerve.

Train your brain to notice safety signals. Fear of recurrence isn’t only about scans—it’s the random twinge, the late‑night Google, the “what if?” on a Tuesday. If you develop a regular practice of finding and feeling safety, that will become habit.

Once a day, spend two minutes collecting proof of okay‑ness:

1) one neutral body cue (my breath is low and easy; skin feels warm, not clammy)

2) one environmental cue (morning light on the wall, dog snoring)

3) one agency cue (I took my meds; I booked a PT appointment)

Say it out loud: “Right now, I have safety signals.” And maybe pair it with a small action—stretch, drink water, or step outside to ground it to physical reality. Practiced when you’re calm, this helps to rewire the alarm system so every ache doesn’t auto‑route to catastrophe.

Rewrite your vigilance contract. Hypervigilance once felt like armor—“If I worry hard enough, I’ll catch it early.” Loving truth: worry isn’t surveillance; care is. And worry can’t keep you safe. Draft a new agreement: “I follow my medical plan and care for my body. Official worry hours: 7:00–7:10 p.m.” When worry barges in at noon, reply, “Thanks, come back at seven.” Then keep the 10‑minute appointment (ironically, most days you won’t need it).

Anchor your future with micro‑plans. Fear shrinks time (example: when I was first diagnosed, I was sure I wouldn't live long enough to finish a bottle of eye serum I had just purchased!). So stretch it gently: pick one thing three months out—a concert, a weekend away, dinner with friends who will be in town —and put it on the calendar. Your brain needs evidence that a future exists. If you need to, work your way up from 3 weeks to 3 months to 6 months. You get the idea.

You didn’t cause your fear. Your fear is a combination of the things you've been through, and it's natural. But just because something is natural doesn't mean you can't do something to make it better. Poison ivy is natural too - but we treat it so we can feel better. The point is that even if your fear isn't something you caused, you can lead yourself out of it.

If you want help crafting your personal playbook for catastrophic thinking, scanxiety, and rebuilding trust in your body, I’m here - reach out on my contact page.

You’re allowed to feel safe again. You deserve to feel safe again. And what's more, you can feel safe again. And you don’t have to wait for the other shoe to drop before you start.

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