voicemail

so the news, other than no bumps in the brain section, is that there are three new nodules in my lower right lobe, but they're "nothing to worry too much about" or something along those lines. where did those little buggers come from? didn't they smell the chemo floating around my body? resilient little things. i guess they're coming from somewhere inside me, since i am so resilient myself, eh. i am becoming much more skilled at giving myself props thanks to this illness. can you tell?

so then, on the drive home from the doctor i was left feeling a little unsure of it all. don't worry, but there are new things in your lung. thrilled that they aren't anywhere else inside me, trust me, thrilled beyond belief, but what about the newness in my lungs? huh? sit back and wait for the surgeon to say his piece. but there's a chance that surgery you've been mentally preparing yourself for might not happen because of this. just a small chance. don't worry. well, of course i am going to worry. this all started with a whole bunch of don't worry, remember. a whole freaking bunch. so, worry i will, not sure about what.

slam on those breaks, go over those handle bars.

new voicemail message.

surgeon has been spoken to, confirred with, has seen the images for himself and thinks they are merely inflammatory, as in "i have made inflammatory remarks about the president in the past". well, maybe not that way, but that's what i thought. more like, "cold air and exercise can be inflammatory, or result in inflamation of tissue". thrilled even more. go for some sugery, so i think. sign me up. get the funk out of me. i feel the big one, it sits right near my sternum, you know, where the saf-t-whistle of the tnf pack sits when the strap is fastened. i hate feeling it. get it out of there, along with all his ridiculous friends. they, along with houseguests and fish, begin to smell after three days. the chemo has weakened their will to live and i talk a hefty amount of smack to them throughout the days, threatening them with images of large scalpels and knives and surgeon's hands or whatever else is used to get them out.

they are shaking in their little boots right now, those tumors. they know what they have coming.

and... it snowed today! fantastic!