It's Not a Love Song [It's a Lymph Saga!]

I'm listening to the Grey's Anatomy soundtrack and the song entitled "It's Not A Love Song." It's a perfect Friday song - carefree, a little too "weekend" without being totally distracting. Delightful.

So yesterday was rather long. I worked all day, I cooked, I sand at choir practice and had to focus and contract abdominal muscles with a belly full of spicy stir-fry (when will I learn?!?), and when I was finally home again, Hubster and I realized we'd neglected to put our W-2's in with the tax forms we filed. It's really odd that I would succeed in avoiding this all those ditzy single years (basically since I was 16) and then, when I finally have another set of eyeballs to help, I forget. Awesome. We'll just send them in when they request them and remember next time. Still, not a good thing to discover at the end of a long day.

Another annoying thing? I noticed a swollen lymph node over three weeks ago on my neck. It was right by my jaw, and it seemed small and I didn't have any other symptoms (including pain there), so I just waited for a week before I went to the doctor. I figured it would go down on its own, you know, in between bouts of thinking I was going to die of cancer within a week. Anyhow, I went to the doctor who examined it, told me it was, indeed, a swollen lymph node and that it was most likely reacting to an infection within the gland itself instead of my entire body which is why I had no other symptoms. The verdict: antibiotic for 10 days and VOILA, no more cancer fears! I MEAN SWELLING. She was kind enough to explain why she doesn't think it's life-threatening. It was mostly helpful. And Hubster, being a Worrier, tried to be supportive but I could tell he was thinking, "Great, I'm going to be a widower. I hate that word. I should change the word . . ."

Ten days later, I'm booking another appointment. It hasn't gone down. In fact, it might be bigger. Or that could just be my increasingly believable cancer hypothesis growing. Who knows. Anyhow, a different doctor looks at it and proclaims it to be resistant to the first antibiotic. [NO!] He gives me something else. Stronger he says - three times a day instead of two, that sort of deal. That was Monday. The area has gotten more tender and the swelling hasn't really gone down. Clearly, I'm a goner.

I still have almost a week of medication which I fully intend to take. If that doesn't work or I notice other symptoms, I'm supposed to call and then they'll do blood work and who knows what all. I probably watch too many medical shows for my own good, but seriously? You might want to find additional blogs to pad your morning reading in case I keel over from the cancer.