I’m in one of those moods.
I did end up “telling” a bunch of people, but not until after I was reasonably certain that all was well. I guess I should be glad that my sense of foreboding never panned out, and yet here I am. a bit tired/frustrated and I suppose that I should cut myself some slack here. but part of me would not have minded that other outcome . . .
It’s Monday, October 8th, 2007. 9:23pm. I’m writing this now and am going to store it away in my pile of drafts, waiting to bring it out if and when I need to. Mostly, I am praying that I won’t need to.
The internet is a wonderful thing, but it also can lead me to conclusions that are perhaps too hastily arrived at. At this moment, where it has taken me is to the place where I am worried that this strange lump in my neck/chest, which arrived suddenly on Sunday, seemingly out of nowhere, is a sign of something worse to come. It could be the tooth . . . I guess it didn’t come “suddenly” after all; I’ve had a vague sense of things hurting for a couple of days or more now . . . with sore jaws, that drain-y fake earache thing, and now this. It’s right below the tooth (good old #18), so it makes sense that it may be the tooth. It’s gotta be the tooth.
But Dr. Google doesn’t mince words, and what I learn is called “left supraclavicular lymphedenopathy” carries with it a high likelihood of an underlying metastasis of some silent, centrally located cancer. I am not always sure how to interpret what I am reading; on the one hand, some articles caution that “most” cases of lymphedenopathy are related to infection; on the other hand, I also keep finding articles that quite clearly say, “this is NOT a good place to have one of these.”
I check off all of the other symptoms that I *don’t* have. I wonder if it’s spreading to the right. (google “diffuse” or “bilateral” and go from there . . . ) I gladly swallow the gigantic antibiotics and try to tell myself that in a week, this will all be behind me, because, after all, it’s the tooth. It’s gotta be the tooth.
It’s gotta be the tooth.
Should this go the other way, I will reflect back on what felt to me like a sense of foreboding, a strange certainty that “this is really it” . . . should the giant pills do their job, I will chide myself for being such a cyberchondriac, and may or may not laugh about it/share it with people.
the sharing part is weird. I told Kim right away; she was right there, after all. I told her casually; I must’ve said something about, “I have a lump on my collarbone”–she replied with, “Are you just saying that because it’s breast cancer awareness month?” (this tells you two things. #1–she “got it” right away. of course we worry about a lump in the general vicinity of the girls. and #2–we are always joking about breast cancer–not about the cancer itself (her mom had it), but about the never-ending, ridiculous stream of products that pledges to “support” breast cancer awareness. the “awareness” ones are our favorite–IN CASE YOU DIDN’T NOTICE THAT YOUR MOUSE TRAPS, YOUR BATTERIES, YOUR MASHED POTATOES AND YOUR HAIR COLOR ARE ALL DECORATED IN BRIGHT PINK BOXES, THIS IS FOR YOU. THERE IS SUCH A THING AS BREAST CANCER. AND APPARENTLY PEOPLE WHO AREN’T “AWARE” OF IT. who’da thunk it? but the rest are similarly annoying, and a trip to the supermarket, especially in October, reveals new and delightfully annoying ways that more businesses are trying to capitalize on boob paranoia.)
who else? told Tracy . . . didn’t tell Sara (she has her own health problems right now and I don’t want to stress her out.) told Kathryn . . . didn’t tell Rhonda (or anybody else at work; too freaky-weird and working with all those men, I don’t want to talk about a mass that is dangerously close to “the girls”, lest we commence some male/female christian workplace breast talk, which obviously can NEVER end well . . . ) told Kris VS . . . sort of as an excuse for why I was late with an e-mail, and sort of because she is the anti-Cher-dog and I find her weirdly nurturing in a sort of keep-it-at-a-distance way.
want to tell beck–probably will via e-mail . . . but why not talk about it far and wide? some people would have no trouble doing so . . .