Strategic Defense

All week I have driven home for lunch, something I rarely ever do unless there is a driving reason (Drew has a day off of school, I forgot to bring something I need for work, I need to change shoes, etc). I don't know why I started doing it, but it felt right.

At first, I just thought it was because I was too tired to make a lunch to take, but could easily have popped over to Garlock Commons and picked up the entree of the day. Then I thought maybe it was because I have been teaching so many classes, I just needed a break and wanted to get out of the building. But I could also go anywhere on campus to take a break.

No, I think its more of a strategic defense against what I will hear tomorrow at the doctor's. Certainly, she will talk about the last PET scan. But this time there is the added concern on my part about the tiredness that is back, and now about my throat which aches all the time, probably as a result of glands that are swollen enough as to be palpable and visible.

So I return to the house where I can warm up, feel comfortable, fortify myself. I need to ask the hard questions this time. If this is not cancer, what else could it be and who should I see about it? If this is cancer, shouldn't I be seeing a lymph specialist, and who would that be? If you are still stumped, perhaps I should see someone else who can figure it out. And why don't you listen when I ask if my glands being swollen are a result of all the radiation I have endured? Should we really be doing all these PET tests? Do you even know the potential side effects from continued exposure?

It will not be an easy conversation. Up until lately, the swollen glands have been in my groin or under my arms. Painful, yes. But the effect has mostly been about what I can't comfortably wear, not worries about losing ability to function. Now with my throat so achy, I worry about being able to talk, to sing, to swallow. I don't want to lose my voice. I don't want to mess around with feeling like I am choking. Well, I don't dwell on it. I pray over it. And apparently I go home to prepare myself for the unknown, whatever that may entail. The calm before the storm? Perhaps.