oh my

I found a lump under my clavicle yesterday and called the dermatologist when.... my friend Mo (a breast cancer "survivor") shook me up a bit over coffee and told me to call my oncologist ASAP.

I hate that word "survivor" because it is so overused but the alternative ain't so pretty. Whatever.

I called him.

I waited for 1.5 hours (love doctors) and the NP came in and looked perplexed because she couldn't tell what it was either.

fear.

waiting.... waiting....

Okay, I am now reading a magazine devoted to the Holy City, which is completely mesmerizing as I am drinking my low-fat frappuccino... I'm not sure if I am really concentrating about the Western Wall, Dome of the Rock or my funeral next year. Will Bruce play my favorite Gospel music? Probably not.

I'm rambling off the topic. Sorry.

So, the NP goes to get the doctor. (another 20 minutes of waiting)

I am now worrying with the damn lump to the point of it sporting a purple glow and becoming more nervous. I am realizing that this type of fear will be my next challenge in life because even zits will become a situation. Fun.

Doc comes in. Checks it out. Looks concerned for a moment because it is so close to the lymph node area... then

decides...

Go home. You are fine. Sebaceous thing-a-ma-giggy, whatcha-ma-call-it.

byebye. I am beginning to hate being sick.

It sucks the big one.