Yesterday, I woke up to a swollen lymph node under my arm, right? If you asked me the night before, what it was that I would prefer to wake to? That wouldn't have been my first choice, but hey? We're dealt the cards we're dealt. But it doesn't hur…….
Whaaaa----?
How do I know? You should know by now. Google is my friend. He's forthcoming with answers, he's intelligent, loyal, he's calm, he is reliable and I have to share him with the entire world, DRAT!! Well, except China. But I went to work as usual and ofcourse, hooked up with Googs, see? See how close we are? A-hem! And this is what I read;
"A lump under armpits usually means that a lymph node under arms has swollen or enlarged. As part of lymphatic system Lymph nodes are responsible for fighting off infections and bacteria, but also abnormal growths such as cancer. This is why a swollen lymph node commonly means that an illness is coming, or that cancer has already shown up. Pay much attention to this symptom."
You already know what ya ole Librambler did, don't you? Exacles. My indecisiveness deserves to be grounded for a month! Without parole. After arguing with myself for a good few hours at work, the rational part of my living being stood firm and convinced me that I should just go on to the doctor and ofcourse that he will be patient and detailed about what I just read. Especially since somewhere in that piece of information, cancer is mentioned. I learned me a good lesson. Rational parts of living beings sometimes lie!
When I got to the doctor, and this is after making an appointment, I got to the doctor at 1.30pm and was seen to at 2.45pm. Somewhere within that time, the poor chap sitting next to me called the receptionist to ask her if he was forgotten about. He was there for an hour and a half by that time but see, he?!?!? Didn't have an appointment! So what was the difference between him and I? Not a damn thing! I had an appointment and he didn't, so essentially, nothing. He was waiting for ages, I was waiting for ages. Same difference. Anyhooooo…she tells him that they are dutied to see the appointment patients first. Really? She told him too that she had called the doctor and told him to hurry with his patients because there are still about ten more to see him.
Eventually, yours truly is called and doc says, take a seat inside, I'll be right back. By then the palm of my hands are warm and I'm saying a silent prayer that my boss' flu that he brought home from China didn't make it's rounds already. I shouldn't have a fever. Not even a slight one. But I did. Or maybe my palms were warm from fisting them for too long. Sometimes, I don't even realize……that's besides the point….I also had a headache. Guess what doc does?
He leaves me sitting in there for another fifteen minutes.
He had to eat something.
I showed compassion.
Who wants a starving doctor diagnosing them? Not me. So I show him my underarm. Now remember that when I hook up with Googs, it's not a shallow interaction. I'm looking for explanations, natural remedies, causes, and most importantly, images. Comparing is vital. So I find an image (attached) that exactly matches my underarm and what I copied above is what I found when I opened the page. This thing still doesn't hurt as I sit here. First thing the amply-dined doctor says is, "hmmmmmm, yeah see, it's a cyst." I think I shook my head slightly in disagreement, I can't be sure because I kinda spaced out after he said, "I'll just give you an injection and cut…." He was giggling when I snapped back to reality which only means that my face skewed into the horrified mixed with angry expression of "F you and the food you just ate if you think you're cutting anything of mine!" For the most part, I think those things. I don't say them.
Instead, I kindly responded, "Nooooh no, we will try antibiotics first." He wasn't listening to my lymph node story, in fact, he flat out said, no. Dude didn't even take my blood pressure! I didn't make it off the chair, you know how they check your pressure, look into your eyes and ears and go ahhhhhhh…………….no! Not nothing. I stood up, lifted my arm and sat down. Then he happened to see my thyroid and cholesterol tests from thaaaaaat time while I am asking him questions about whether the grapefruit, apple cider vinegar and honey drink that I'd started could have caused this since it's like a detox. I'm really trying to achieve satisfaction. He was really trying to get me outa there. He totally switches the subject and talks about my cholesterol and thyroids and when can I come for a fasting test. Before I can say, "But doctor?" In his Indian accent, he rattles, "Come early Saturday, we do the blood tests and check, put you on a small thyroid dosage and…" Me (fed up-aint nobody came here for that), "No, I need to check with medical aid first." He then suggested I go into hospital overnight and get all the tests done and the look on my face told him just what he said, "…I know you don't want to stay in hospital."
Here's the problem that I had with that visit yesterday. Getting through those ten patients after me was more important than being thorough and making sure that all possibilities of something more serious was ruled out. For me? The first thing that should have been done is a biopsy, just like the more thorough doctor had previously done a few years ago, on my breast. Not because I think it's any more serious than it is, but even if it's a 1% chance of it being, then I deserve it being ruled out. Send it for testing and WHEN IT comes back NEGATIVE, thennnnnn tell me about a cyst or thyroid medication that you want to ram down my throat for the rest of my life. In the meanwhile, give me the antibiotics and anti-inflammatories. I had already initially told him that it's slightly tender but not painful. I have had a recurring cyst before, he knows it and once that sucker inflamed? By the time the next few hours came? That pain was a muthafucker! That pain? It doesn't exist now. My nodes might as well be fine as rain. That's the level of pain I am experiencing right now. As a woman? With breasts? This lump shouldn't just mean, Oh oh oh, wait, lemme guess?!?!?! Cyst! It means, lemme rule all possibilities here, so that we're safe.
But what should be about care, is about money. I won't be using that particular doctor in a hurry again.
Sent via my BlackBerry from Vodacom - let your email find you!
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