Larry Lump's Big Adventure

I have something in common with Amy Box-of-Wine-house (which should scare all of you)...we both have lumpy under arms! We both have arm pit lumps!

I took Larry Lump to meet the surgeon yesterday. Although I've been massaging my lymph nodes (I bet that gives you a visual), I thought it prudent to continue my contact with the traditional medical professionals. Dr. Surgeon asked all kinds of predictable questions, some of which teeter on scaring the shit out of you, even when you know nothing is wrong. By the time the he got through the lymphoma, leukemia, cancer questions, I thought Larry would be half way to California.

It doesn't matter what I say in regards to Larry; the doctors literally always ask the same questions I just answered when describing the problem:
Me: "He's been here since February. I don't have any symptoms. I haven't lost weight, I haven't had a fever, none of my other lymph nodes are swollen, I haven't been by a cat, I haven't been having night sweats. I've had this twice before. Both times, he went away after six or so months."
Doctor: "Are you having any night sweats or a fever?"
Me: "No."
Doctor: "Have you lost weight or noticed any other lymph nodes?"
Me (trying not to scream or swear): "No."
Doctor: "Do you own a cat?"
Me (on the verge of unconsciousness): "No."

Had he asked me something like, "Has it looked like Amy-Box-of-Wine-house's armpit lump?" I would have been pleased. At least it would have been something different than the regurgitated questions being asked.

Of course, by the time we got to the point of seeing a surgeon, Larry was much smaller than he's been in months. At least he was still there; the last two times, he was gone by the time I got to the surgeon. The most thorough breast exam on the planet was completed and completed again. Pushing, shoving, poking--nothing there. I told you that.

Dr. Surgeon gave Larry Lump quite the work out. Dr. Surgeon had a quizzical look on his face. "It feels like the size of a pea." I agreed--Larry is much smaller today. I assure him Larry has been grape sized. He tips his head as if considering this. Another poke to Larry and he says, "I'm not sure it's a lymph node. It might be a cyst."

This makes me giddy with delight, as that would be even more awesome than some pissed off lymph node. Of course, a surgeon is going to say I need surgery and he does indeed say this, adding (as all doctors do) that he can't be sure which it is until he takes it out and that it will still need to be sent to pathology to make sure it isn't something not so good.

Dr. Surgeon tells me he can take it out next week, adding that he does not think it has anything to do with breast tissue or cancer. I think about pounding my head on the wall, but I like being right, so I smile politely and remember to be grateful for such good news, even though I didn't have any doubt about getting good news. I was assured the nurse would call to set the appointment. I took Larry and my well-examined breasts back to work, smiling the whole way.

This morning, while showering, I started to wash my armpit when.....

.....I noticed something different. Larry Lump was teeeny weeeeny! Larry didn't look anything like Amy Box-of-Wine-house's lump any more. I mean, he was the teeniest he's been in months. I start laughing. Larry Lump just needed a little motivation to hit the road. My guess is that with a little more time, he'll be gone....

....which is amazingly good, especially when I tell you this: Dr. Surgeon's office called late today and indicated they can't do the surgery until June 4th. That gives me oodles of time to work on (with?) Larry, treating him to massage after loving massage. I think the Universe is with me on this: we'll give you the time you need, you do what Larry needs you to do.

Amy Box-of-Wine-house ain't got nuthin' on Larry Lump. Hmmmm....maybe Amy and I should both stop shaving our arm pits in an effort to stay unlumpified......

....that's even a scarier thought than me having something in common with her. I'm having a visual. I think I just threw up a little in my mouth.

Everyone--please send Larry Lump some love and then, envision him....gently prod him....away from my arm pit and toward the loving light of the Lumpless Universe.

As long as you don't envision Larry and Amy's lump getting together and making a whole bunch of little lumps, it'll be all good.