What IS That Thing?!

 If you haven't seen the previous post, read this first.

I'm sure I did what anyone else would if they were far from home, having just learned they have a chest lemon. First, I slept for a couple of hours, sent messages to a couple of doctors, and called Ren. He reminded me it was the anniversary of our first date and told me nothing terrible would happen on such a beautiful and important day. The original intent of my nights alone in the hotel was to spend some time relaxing and reflecting on the past year. So I tried not to let the news stop me. I went for brunch and explored an amazing bookstore, where I mostly sat and tried to catch my breath.

Since I was exhausted, I returned to my hotel room, where I opened all the windows, turned on the women's college basketball game, and took a really long nap. It was such a gorgeous day, warm and breezy--perfect weather for sleeping. But I imagine you don't want to hear about all of that. Like I did, you want to know what that THING is.

Let me tell you, it's not so easy to get the answer to that kind of question. While you're waiting, you might even have time to name the thing you're trying to identify. Having just lost my mom to cancer, I am acutely aware that persistence is key when you find things in your body that aren't supposed to be there. Within about a day, I had several appointments scheduled. Then those appointments led to more appointments. I also continued accompanying Ren to his appointments (more on that later, I guess). By the end of week 3 of knowing about Brian, I had had an MRI and was headed to a thoracic surgeon.

I already knew what the doctor was going to say before she told me. How could it not be the super rare cancer I'd been reading about? I don't know why or how, but I knew this months before that appointment. I've been coughing for years and just not feeling like myself; it had to be something, and pretty much everything else had been ruled out. The good news is that this kind of cancer is super slow-growing and can usually be managed with surgery if caught early. 

The weird thing about news like this is that it's really hard to figure out who to share it with. I'd rather not talk about it because I'd rather not talk about myself. Also, I don't like pity. But, also, the news is a drag, so I kinda want people to cheer me up. It'll be fine, but it'll stink for a little bit. I'm going to drop balls and may have to miss some stuff for the kids. I guess I'm going to have to really figure out how to chill. Sigh.

Anyway, I leave you with two amazing pictures a friend created when he heard the news. I really do have the best friends!

The Life (and Hopefully Death) of Brian

Meet Brian the Chest Lemon. Apparently, Brian has been making himself comfortable in my mediastinum (don’t worry—I had to look that up, too) for a while now. I had a feeling he was there, but no one could figure out what was causing the various symptoms I was having--like a persistent cough and a change in my voice. And, since he’s literally 1 in a million, no one thought to look for him. Hide-and-seek is no fun when you don't know you are playing it! 

Brian was outed some time in the early hours of March 9th at an emergency department in Bloomington, IN. I was in Indiana for a long weekend--to see family and friends and, ironically, to spend some time in self-reflection after losing my mom a year ago. This is what happens when I try to take time for myself, you guys; I find a chest lemon. Randomly discovering a tumor at a hospital 5+ hours from my Ren and the kids was NOT on my itinerary!

So, as trips go, my meditation and rejuvenation-focused weekend was a bust, BUT I got to spend quality time with friends and breathe the air of places I love. Also, if I hadn't taken the trip, and if my friend hadn't insisted I go to the ED, Brian would still be enjoying his anonymity. Plus, my friend and I had a lot of time to laugh and talk in the waiting room for six hours. They came to get me from time to time to take me to do tests before dumping me back into the waiting room to, you know, wait. I guess once they determine you are not having a heart attack, they don’t mind keeping you up all night. My philosophy has always been that most ailments heal on their own while people wait in the ED.

Sometime around 2:30 in the morning, they called us into the triage room to tell me my symptoms were likely due to some new meds I was taking, and, oh also, did you know you have this giant thing growing in a part of your chest that you can't even locate because no one who is not a doctor or taking anatomy class has heard of it? My friend seemed much more surprised than I was. I imagine her response made more sense. I was so calm, in fact, that she asked if I had somehow already known about Brian.

I hadn't.

To be continued....