Farewell, Lumpy!

Coming to you live from our home office....where I am quietly sobbing.  It would seem NOTHING can go smoothly...expecially not "lumpy".  Lumpy the lymphnode was the 3rd person in the Dixon marriage until 8am this morning when he was divorced. Lemme 'splain...
Back in the Fall I had found a lump on the back of my neck, and being un-insured I told myself it would be gone by morning and tried not to dream of chemotherapy.  But the next day when it was still hangin around and my Husband, the King of, " it's no big deal" gave me an, "I don't like the way this feels" look...I started to panic and made a Doctors appointment for the Tuesday following our wedding.  A GP also gave me a , "yep you're screwed" gaze upon examination and ordered up blood work and an ultrasound.  A week later the cool stare of a 20 year old ultrasound tech pretty much suggested I start planning my funeral and I promptly fainted on a LabCorp employee who looked like Precious.  I sobbed to my GP that I had truly started planning my funeral and couldn't wait his suggested 2 weeks for a follow up.  "I need to know by Friday if I have cancer because if I have to wait any longer I'll have a heart attack anyway".  After countless nights of sobbing to my poor, loving Husband and telling him I was sorry but I wouldn't have the strength to make it too long after my diagnosis and it's probably better that I go first anyway.  Many of those, "I want you to move on and find someone" (although...who am I kidding, no I don't) conversations. Plans for my funeral and the division of my estate. And by estate, I referred to my 99' Saturn which I requested be set on fire on the lawn of the ex boyfriend who purchased it. And the list of friends to disburse my jewelry and Anthropolgie glassware among.  After all of that....my bloodwork was clear and Mark and I hugged, cried, and immediately ordered a pizza.

But that was not the end of Lumpy.  No, Lumpy was a growing boy and had big plans.  I swear, there were days I felt like this thing was going to pop out of my neck...it was awful.  My GP suggested that since it would be easy to do so, I should follow up with an ENT.  I did. My ENT, Dr. Hall suggested we get the bugger the hell outta my neck and I was overjoyed if not just a tad less than thrilled to be going under the knife for the second time in a year.  My first and only experience with Anethesia was not a pleasant one and resulted in my laying in bed with a bucket and consequently never being able to consume Lorna Doones and/or Grape Juice ever again. Never. Ever.  But today's experience at Underwood Memorial Hospital or as I call it, Blunderwood, was a fairly pleasant one.  Although whilst weighing me the Admissions Nurse slapped me sideways with this lil diddy, "hmmm...looks can be decieving."  I'm still not sure how I take this other than "wow, you wear that fat well".  Dr. Hall played Tom Jones' "Sex Bomb" in lieu of any George Michael while I was being sedated and my last words were, "this is SO Nip/Tuck!".  Less than an hour later, Lumpy was gone. Dr. Hall won't have the biopsy results back for a few weeks but he's very confident it was only a lymphnode aggrivated by an infection and pressured by fatty tissue.  PHEW! 

But now I'm home and several hours after surgery, thinking I was in the clear and home free from pain....I can't turn my neck. I can't shower until Wednesday and no one in that damn hospital wrote me a script for shit!  I need pills, people! I am feeling quite filthy and very Valley of the Dolls.  I'm in no mood. Anyway....just thought I'd check in. 

I gotta have faith...
XOJAC