I've had a rough year, my friends.
And without reliving it all, here is what's been going on with me lately:
A few months ago (I keep saying "a couple months" but it's been far longer), I was sitting at my desk at work and just to soothe myself, rubbed my neck. Which is when, on the right side under my chin, I found a small lump.
But I didn't think on it too much.
Except a month later, it was still there.
But then, I swear to you, it wasn't. I finally got to telling my parents about it and they were only mildly concerned, but then like a week later, I couldn't feel it anymore.
And then, of course, it was back.
Well, at this time, I had one of my killer sinus infections and I was going to a new ENT anyway. He'd come highly recommended. And I figured since I could feel it, he should look at it. And he felt it was worth looking into.
This changed my life for the next few months. Somewhere in there, I was in the bus accident and I started to really lose it for a while. I didn't even want to leave my house. I drank a bit of wine, I cried a lot. I turned down invites with friends. I watched a ton of TV.
My doctor maintained it was nothing to worry about but I'm sorry, I don't care who you are, when you hear words like "malignancy" and "lump," even the word "benign," you just can't help it. These are words associated with Cancer. And let me tell you how evil Google is at a time like this. Because what does an irrational person like me immediately do? You take to the web and start googling things like "lymphoma" and "biopsy needle."
First, because it was less expensive, I had an ultra-sound. The tech who did it was very stoic and intimidating and refused to tell me anything as he did it. Except when he let it slip that I had "a few tumors."
Unfortunately, that meant my doctor needed to send me for an MRI. Which was hell. Only because, as it turns out, I'm claustrophobic when you put me in a tube and say "whatever you do, don't open your eyes." (Seriously? What does anyone do when you say "whatever you do...")
So about eight minutes into the MRI, I totally freaked out. I yelled for them to pull me out and then, begged them not to make me go back in.
Two week later, I went back, under the influence of a major sedative. That was a far more pleasant experience. I should add that I ran into a friend in the lobby and he turned out to be a great source of comfort for me later on -- how fortuitous that fate put us there at the same time. And in that MRI, I was basically stoned and happy to recite the entire opening to "Star Trek: The Next Generation." Hey, whatever keeps you distracted, right?
The MRI showed more clearly that I had several masses. A couple that were large enough to worry. So next up was a needle biopsy.
Which I showed up for but what a disaster. The lab had not retrieved any of my MRI or Ultrasound films and they did not have the best demeanor. I was annoyed. And the lab tech was annoying. And there I was, post bus-accident and in major pain, having to lay in such a way that made everything near my spine throb.
And then, because no one had noticed the largest mass (which was the one they wanted to biopsy) was right on top of my carotid artery, they could not even complete the needle biopsy. The carotid artery is very volatile and should it be even tapped the wrong way, you can bleed out (I am proud to say that as a devout "ER" watcher, I knew that).
A lot of back and forth after that... Between me, my parents, my ENT, my primary doctor... Long story short is that I was going to have to have surgery. Again, I was assured it was still nothing to worry about.
Please. Do you know me? I am a worrier.
I went out of town that weekend with my teenagers for a retreat. They, and my co-advisors, were a blissful, loving distraction. I could never thank them enough for that.
And so, my surgery was this past Wednesday. And as it turned out, they still could not remove the largest lump -- it is just too close to my carotid. So they took the next largest (it's been explained to me it's about the size of a quarter), the one I found originally, under my chin.
I arrive to the hospital at 9am and was home by 3pm, if you can believe it. I don't even remember much about the day. The things I DO recall: I never cried. Not once. Which is very unlike me. I teared up and moaned a little coming out of anesthesia in the recovery room, but miraculously, if I may say, I was quite brave. And when I started to wake up more, and the nurse asked what I wanted to drink, I said "vodka." She laughed and poured me water. Later I was "treated" to apple juice (I hate apple juice but I drank it anyway).
When they were satisfied that I could hold down food (and by food, I mean like six saltines) and could walk, they let me go home with my parents.
And so I've been holed up here, with my mom and dad taking great care of me, since Wednesday afternoon. I kept all of what was going on a secret from most people. Not for lack of trust or anything like that, but purely because I was scared. And I did not know how to talk about it. And I never wanted to worry anyone else. I did tell a few close friends and some people I work with. I didn't even tell my extended family until after the surgery.
And finally, my friends, though I am in considerable pain from the stitches and still, from the bus accident, and some wretched side affects of the anti-biotic I have to take, there is a happy, happy ending:
BENIGN. BENIGN. BENIGN.
Final results Tuesday, but I'm satisfied enough with the preliminary findings. The remaining lumps will be watched for growth but basically, I can live with them for quite some time.
And let me say it again because it's the most inner peace I've had in MONTHS:
BENIGN. BENIGN. BENIGN.
Good night!
