My dad has been fighting cancer for the past 13-ish years. He recently told me that he's expected to live another six months or so because he has ran out of treatment options. Though we've known for most of these past years that his cancer is terminal, I feel like him telling me the news set something off inside of me.

Starting shortly after the time of hearing this news, I started to feel subtle, hard-to-pinpoint discomfort near my tailbone & perineum (sorry, TMI). I went to the doctor multiple times, had all types of exams and scans, but everything was coming back as "normal". My symptoms got worse as weeks went on, and I became incredibly anxious, though I was not able to recognize it as "anxiety".

At the peak of all this I found myself having what I would assume was an anxiety or panic attack. I could not control my breathing, started sweating, feeling like I was about to pass out. My wife was able to calm me down by helping me breath. I would break down crying on the phone trying to schedule doctors appointments (I'm 30 years old). I was unable to sleep at all for several days in a row even though I felt completely exhausted. Had to take time off (Incredibly thankful for coworkers/managers who were understanding) Chest pain, digestive issues, etc.

It's been a weird few months, but I finally think (hopefully) I am starting to get back to my "normal" self. The experience has taught me at least a couple things:

- Mental / emotional heath is something that is taken for granted. Now I have a new perspective on the importance of trying to maintain it and want to be understanding toward others.

- I think some (all?) of my symptoms were definitely related to what was going on in my life, and how things played out as I tried to fix them. This is hard for me to wrap my head around, but really I have found no other logical explanation.