There is part of me that feels badly for not adding a postscript to my last post ... just a little note to let readers know the tests for the lumps in my right knocker all turned out okay. Part of me feels terrible that I caused readers to worry. Part of me realizes it was almost cruel to leave a cliffhanger like that - to not give all the details. Part of me thinks I should have made that post longer ... so I could give all the ins and outs about the follow-up films and the 3 hours of waiting in that room for an ultrasound and a consultation and a rescan and finally the all's well. Part of me grimaced when I read sweet comments from anxious people and part of me apologized when I responded to emails and phone calls and texts that I received nearly immediately after posting that last post.
But only part of me.
The down and dirty is this: the one lump was a group a cysts - little tiny micro-cysts that are nothing to worry about. Cue the ph-shew sound. I was told the other lump is "a nothing thing". Which between me, you and the ultrasound tech, isn't comforting at all. What the cuss is a "nothing thing"? ... isn't the very fact that you're calling it a "thing" mean it IS something? Which is sort of what I asked ... sort of. Maybe not that tactfully. The doctor who read the films tried to comfort me in the room by saying "well, it could just be a lymph node." Oh. Ducky. Clearly, someone hadn't read my medical history. Telling a lymphoma survivor a lump is "just a lymph node" is a little like telling an agoraphobic it's "just The Duggers" coming over for dinner. Bottom line, as with many things, that lump is a "watch it and see". The doctor wasn't worried. My oncologist wasn't worried. We know it isn't breast cancer. And that's awesome. We know (since we've been monitoring it) it isn't growing. And that's awesome too. Sometimes I think my body just likes to keep me guessing. Likes the attention maybe. Dunno. All I know is since June 2006, partly because of situations like this, I haven't really fully exhaled.
So maybe that's why only part of me felt badly for making you wait for the news. And I know, it's not my job to teach you what a cancer survivor feels like or deals with, but a little empathy goes a long way in this world. And be grateful, I could have told you about the four days last month we thought I was going to have to have open heart surgery.