A Worrisome Development

On the Saturday before last, I moved Derek. During the move, I thought a wasp stung me and I'm allergic. But I could find no insertion and although the arm hurt like a sting, I saw no red lump forming, nor any red tracery running up my veins as usually transpires in such cases with me.

I finished helping with the unpacking and even scared off Jormundgandr, the World Serpent, to protect the McQuay householders.

Then, Tuesday night last week, I discovered a lump on my left inner forearm about 2" above the wrist. It was no sore nor itchy. It was fairly solid and had appeared, to me, out of nowhere. It moved around, but felt fleshy.

The truth is, when I encountered this, I was unsettled. I'm of the age now where things could happen more likely than not and some of them could be quite bad.

I took some pictures. About 30mm radially, and about 20mm longitudinally, maybe 5-8mm deep (hard to measure).

On Wednesday night, I broke down and went to the clinic across the way. I've been needing a new G.P. and they were accepting patients. I saw a nice young Serbian (I think) woman, Dr. Cavarcek (could have the spelling wrong).

She poked and prodded, indicating that the mobile nature and the roundness mitigated for something less harmful, but the hardness was a concern. She said it probably was not life threatening, but I could not correlate it back to any blow and it didn't look like a wasp or bee sting of any sort. She felt an ultrasound was required, then possibly or likely a biopsy.

Ominously, she told me to return if it seemed to be growing quickly.

I went to schedule an ultrasound on Thursday morning, after not sleeping well Wednesday night. I talked to a couple of folks, but not many as some of my friends are the sorts to worry overmuch or have a lot on their own plates.

The ultrasound places I talked to first (first two) were indicated Nov 24+ dates. Eek! The third place was good and gave me today at 1 PM (Tuesday), so a week after initial discovery. That seemed reasonable. I only had to endure 4-5 days of uncertainty.

I found out I had a sort of unsettled anxiety. Not a concious layer fear - I haven't ever been afraid of dying. Frankly, I didn't expect to make it past 35. But an unconcious anxiety, that was interesting, if annoying.

The concious concerns were more about the mess my apartment was in, my financial paperwork was in, my non-existent will was in, and my estate would be in. Also of course I realized that the efforts I'd made in the last months to start considering a will were insufficiently advanced.

I never made a will before because it didn't seem to serve a purpose. I had no one to leave anything much to. And I didn't think I'd need it.

Well, this convinced me I'd been negligent. I have a Godson. He has a sick little brother. I have many other friends with children. I have some friends who have been very good to me (you know who you are). I have some friends who might be able to use a hand.

So all that made me think I should specify where things went and get it written down as well as getting my life and financials in order.

None of this was from a dark fear of what might come from the scan, but was just a pragmatic realization I'm not administratively prepared to shuffle off this mortal coil, if that was what was required.

I looked up some of the options: Lipoma and Adenopathy seemed the least of the evils, Liposarcoma sounded scary and likely deadly.

I still have no fear of dying. I have a fear of leaving a mess behind. I have a fear of my books not being delegated to a good home. I have a fear of my parents being left without me. Dying itself... that's a natural thing and I've been at peace with that since my teenage years. Maybe it is the mark of not being so attached to my own life - it seems unremarkable most days. Maybe it is simply the knowledge that you can't cheat the Reaper. The realization of my mortality at an early age made joining the Army Reserve easier - I actually accepted again the possibility of a death and it didn't phase me.

But then, I don't have a wife or children. I do have elderly parents and that is now a concern and I'm now a proxy second tier backup parent for a young man. But those are still sort of diffuse compared with what it must be like to have a spouse or children and have to face mortality.

Anyway, today was my visit to the ultrasound clinic. It was fast, although the scan tech went and brought in the radiologist. The radiologist, probably unofficially, indicated that it was in the muscle layer, it had a pocket/clot of blood, and was likely a muscle tear. He said athletes frequently have these as do people doing 'unaccustomed exercise'. I guess that could mean 41 year old computer programmers moving things.

The doc will have the final word. But it looks like it'll either go away on its own or be aspirated and drained surgically. No biopsy. No tumour. No cancer. (At least, not there - that's the optimist in me!)

So I do feell lucky. Another friend just reported to me quietly that he had a dose of diabetes. My mom's leg has been cold, possibly signifying a circulation issue. They are talking about taking off the bottom part of Dad's leg. All of that comes with the signs of mortality even more obvious than my grey hairs.

Still, I'm glad I got a by on this one. I still want to see Scotland, NZ, Australia, bits of Germany, Belgium, Ireland and England. I still want to write a book. I still want to read my unfinished books (I should live forever!). I still want to see my Godson grow up and my other friend's kids become fully developed adults. I still want to play some more games and share in the warm wit and companionship of my dear friends and cook nice meals and treats for them every so often. I still want to sail. I still want to connect again with old friends.

So, I've got time to get my life organized again (at least it seems that way). I've got time to keep moving on the things I want to do or need to do. I've got time to lose some weight and to write and to travel.

And I've got time to thank each and every one of my friends who has shared so many times, good and bad, with me over the years. To thank them for being my friends and for being outstanding human beings. On the dark days, I just think of them to counteract any negative perception of the bulk of humanity.

I've got a bum wrist for a while. But I'm good. Really. Something like this really reminds you what matters.

Best regards to all of my friends, wherever you may be!



Tom B.

PS - To show you the universe has a sense of humour, it throws me this bone, this good outcome. And then it drops the OPP on me for an expired Valtag. $110 to remind me that the world goes on even when you sometimes gum up and don't get the job done.

PPS - I'm still good though. It's hard to damp this level of good.