shiggins
22-11-17, 23:49
Another trip through Hypochondria Hills -- a suburb just outside of Hell. Here's what's on the menu this time: an ominous, palpable groin node.
It's fairly big (pea-sized?), firm (kind of flicks under my thumb but still pretty "fixed"?) and rubbery (sign of lymphoma according to Dr. Google). I may or may not have had this thing for a while, but you know how HA works: you find something and fixate on it. In exquisite detail. Either way, I've been out of my mind the past few days. Checking the latest cancer stats (got 'em bookmarked). Sifting through the clinical literature on lymphadenopathy (there's more than you might think). Wondering what it's like to die (probably easier than dealing with hypochondria).
So I go to the Doc today. He feels around and says that I've got "shotty nodes." A fairly common finding. "Come see me if this thing doubles in size," he said. "And it won't. I see it all the time." Before I left his office he looked at me and said: "I'm not worried, so you shouldn't be. Happy Thanksgiving."
Interesting.
I should still be freaking out, right? I should still be slipping my hand down the front of my pants so I can give this death-node another feel. Just one more check. Right? I should be drafting up my will.
"I'm not worried, so you shouldn't be."
I've been through this rodeo so many times. Demanded a colonoscopy because I was convinced I had colon cancer: clean. Demanded a brain scan to check for a tumor: clean. Demanded a supraclavicular ultrasound because of Virchow's node. You guessed it. Clean. You'd think I'd have this figured out by now.
So: "I'm not worried, so you shouldn't be." Maybe there's something to that. Maybe this time I'm going to try listening to the doctor instead of my addiction to misery.
Well. Just wanted to get that off my chest. Happy Thanksgiving, guys.
It's fairly big (pea-sized?), firm (kind of flicks under my thumb but still pretty "fixed"?) and rubbery (sign of lymphoma according to Dr. Google). I may or may not have had this thing for a while, but you know how HA works: you find something and fixate on it. In exquisite detail. Either way, I've been out of my mind the past few days. Checking the latest cancer stats (got 'em bookmarked). Sifting through the clinical literature on lymphadenopathy (there's more than you might think). Wondering what it's like to die (probably easier than dealing with hypochondria).
So I go to the Doc today. He feels around and says that I've got "shotty nodes." A fairly common finding. "Come see me if this thing doubles in size," he said. "And it won't. I see it all the time." Before I left his office he looked at me and said: "I'm not worried, so you shouldn't be. Happy Thanksgiving."
Interesting.
I should still be freaking out, right? I should still be slipping my hand down the front of my pants so I can give this death-node another feel. Just one more check. Right? I should be drafting up my will.
"I'm not worried, so you shouldn't be."
I've been through this rodeo so many times. Demanded a colonoscopy because I was convinced I had colon cancer: clean. Demanded a brain scan to check for a tumor: clean. Demanded a supraclavicular ultrasound because of Virchow's node. You guessed it. Clean. You'd think I'd have this figured out by now.
So: "I'm not worried, so you shouldn't be." Maybe there's something to that. Maybe this time I'm going to try listening to the doctor instead of my addiction to misery.
Well. Just wanted to get that off my chest. Happy Thanksgiving, guys.