Okay, this is going to sound ludicrous but bear with me, I'm feeling really proud of myself.
One of my major freakouts is late periods, which is a bit of a problem now I'm in my forties and they're just starting to play tricks on me. The minute the allowable time window is passed (31.5 days, thank you, don't ask me how that figure was decided but now it's set in stone) I automatically assume that it won't show up at all, probably because the cancer's kicked in.
Now, like my mother before me, I'm horrendously prone to magical thinking. Thus, if it's less than a week before my period I hate to buy pads because that will stop it showing up and I'll have cancer and spend the rest of my life with masked strangers staring up my privates. In the past, this has caused me some awkwardness when my stocks have run low and I've come on and either haven't had a pad in my bag, or I've only had the emergency pad that I keep in my bag.
Monday, at 34 days, I was aware I only had 3 pads left and my husband was going into town. I knew I had to ask him to pick up some more, and I did, despite all the horrible scary feelings that I'd doomed myself.
Yesterday, my period showed up and I had adequate resources not to have to worry about it because I insisted on listening to my rational brain.
It's a tiny victory, but a victory nevertheless.