you can tell by the light
For two months I've noticed a prominent lymph node, but yesterday morning I awoke with serious concern. It occurred to me that my concern could acutally be a certainty that something was desperately wrong. All day weighing my options and planning my actions while I ate my $2 cheeseburger and bought a pleather skirt before going to math class.
The professor was lecturing on probability theory and he maintained an example of a cancer patient throughout class. I stared at the snow - blowing every-which-a-way - and considered my own probability.
Towards the library I walked, with only an hour and a half before my next class, but I passed the library and entered for the first time the health clinic.
I've given blood, had physicals, immunization, dental checkups, and received sutures, but never have I taken myself to a doctor for any reason. Never an internal reason.
I don't even have ibuprophen in my home. Just some Benadril & Midol for emergencies.
For an hour and a half I waited through charts, nurse inspections (my blood pressure was high from nervousness), blood samples, testing, until finally she read my report.
Aparently things which ought not be low are lower than average, and things which ought not be high are higher than average, but nothing is out of the range of normal.
Except for one thing (I can't remember what) which tells that I have a bacterial infection, of what sort she could not tell.
It isn't strep, or mono, or lymphoma.
It's five days of antibiotics and by Valentine's Day the one node should not be twice the size of the other.
If it is, though, it could just be that it's a large node and means nothing.
The telling of all that came out so nicely.
Perhaps because I came home and called numerous people and have told the story a few times.
But yesterday was not so nice.
I kept recalling the day my former roommate had a similar swelling inspected, and her evening ended after a biopsy.
Staring at the falling snow I learned something about myself, about how I deal with personal trauma: silently, and very much so.
Joe and Winter walked with me nearly the entire way to the library - where they assumed I was headed - and I told them nothing, and that was just an instant before I entered the clinic.
The consensus of my thoughts was not to instantly call everyone with the bad news, actually. I didn't want to immediately tell the world I was sick. In fact I debated telling them at all. I definitely knew that I would not tell them that day. And my mother would not be the first to know, though I told her she would be.
I wanted to cry so badly. So badly I wanted to cry.
Then I gladly payed $120 for the news that I'm alright.
The snow is constant here. Falling and falling and freezing as it does.
Last night I talked to Maggie, Mama, Tylere, and Joe... then I slept well. For the first time in I-don't-know-how-long.
When I awoke there were actually periods of sleep that I didn't remember dreaming during.
Tylere and Maggie said if I got cancer they'd move to Indiana to take care of me.
I got an email from Tom Wisdom. That's his name. He lives out in California, and want's to come here for our cognitive science program. He's a friend of a friend of Amelia's, and was offered my email address somehow since I'm in the program.
I'm utterly fascinated by him, and perhaps infatuated. He's perfectly smart and hip and pleasant. His blog is full of photos and humor. I've seen his Friendster profile, too, and I'm eager for him to come visit.
Today I've spent trying to set up my OutlookExpress... which at one point required me calling Yahoo help so I could reset a password for changing my credit card information so I could update to the type of POP mail service needed in Outlook...
As I spoke to Sean, the help-clerk, he asked some questions to verify my account, like my zip code, birthday, and then he asked my childhood hero...
Aparently this is something I set at some point when establishing this account.
"The Incredible Hulk," I answered with a giggle.
It made Sean laugh too.
I just got invited to a birthday party this coming Friday which advertises a snow-ball fight at 11:00 between "shirts" and "skins".
Judging by my behavior recently while drinking there is a smidge of doubt as to whether or not I would actually remove my top for sport.
I've become an utterly qualm-less drinker with no cooth or tact, even.
The positive feedback propels me.
Let's hope I don't strip for a biologist's birthday, okay?
Although it is Aaron, the tall one, from New Mexico, with the smooth, deep voice.
Like a Serban.
Oh! there's a roadtrip in my future, to see the Yeah Yeah Yeah's in Cincinatti and I'm thrilled. Music comes sparsely to me in the parts.
I'm going to go now, and enjoy the rest of my day. Healthy. Alive. Rested. Happy.
Although, I really, really want to fall in love, but... this is the girl who walked two miles in Chuck's through fresh-fallen snow... my endurance and pain-tolerance is astounding... I can wait forever if it's the right thing.
