The dentist chair is in a reclining position and so my body is comfortable but my mouth is wide open with a block between my teeth so I can’t bite the dentist. My mouth is numb from Novocain, so I couldn’t bite even if I wanted to. My anxiety started to kick in again, my heart was beating faster as I thought of yet another tooth extraction and the complications of Prolia for my osteoporosis. She is looking to see if my tooth can be saved, and I am silently praying for her success. While she is drilling and hunting, I’m having thoughts about cancer, chemotherapy, stem cell transplant, a covid pandemic, shingles, a fractured shoulder, remission and cancer recurrence. I’ve been through a lot in the last 3 years, and I faced every obstacle to find my way back to wellness, but emotional turmoil wreaks havoc on my body, moods and mental state. My stomach goes ballistic unpredictably, and I feel like I can no longer trust my body which puts a damper on leaving home for fear there won’t be a bathroom nearby. This cancer recurrence is harder to deal with than the first time around. There is no end to treatment, lymphoma will now be managed, and I often have the feeling of living life on a roller coaster.   I found myself feeling lost and sad ever since treatment ended the first time because at 70, I was once again trying to figure out what to do with my life, so I also felt angry and resistant. While sitting in the dentist chair with eyes squeezed shut, I realized something about myself. On one hand I’m doing all the right things for my survival, but on the other I was wishing for life to be finished. These opposite feelings are creating a whirlwind that could be at the center of my anxiety. Physically I am doing well with my clinical trial, but my negative frame of mind creates tension. In “Radical Acceptance” Tara Brach talks about non-judgmental acceptance of all thoughts and feelings, no matter how unpleasant.  My resistance is causing turmoil. So, while my dentist was drilling and hunting for the source of my problem, I realized that because I do everything I should be doing to survive, I must want to survive despite the heavy-hearted feelings I’ve been struggling with. I left feeling relieved and peaceful even though my tooth cannot be saved.   Later in the day I received a call saying my recent Pet scan was great and that I am in remission. I was unusually elated. I went to my family dinner to celebrate the Jewish New Year and announced that I am in remission “again” feeling a mix of trepidation and underlying happiness. One of my nephews responded with, “So that means you kicked cancer to the curb — twice! You rock!” And I said for the first time, without anxiety, “Yes, I do!”