Yesterday my husband had a needle biopsy on a lump in his neck. It's a lymph gland that was swelling up and down as the result of a bone infection he had last year - and then it never went down. That's the good news, but still we have to be sure it's not something else. Yesterday was the first time I'd heard the word "lymphoma" used in reference to my husband - or anyone I love for that matter. I can hardly bear to write it and I certainly cannot say it.
I am quickly learning how when you're dealing with this kind of problem there's more uncertainly than fact. The biopsy results will tell us if it IS the dreaded L word, but they will not tell us for sure that it is not. The blood tests he's already had don't LOOK like there's anything to be worried about - but we can't tell for sure from that either. When will we know for sure? And how? I don't know.
So we'll see and we are both optimistic. He is strong, healthy, young and feeling fine - there's just this gland that is still there. The bone infection didn't come from poor health, it came from a surgery he had after breaking a bone. Everything points to all is ok.
But in the meantime I am haunted by the hated word Lymphoma and am thoughtful of the so many others who have gone through the uncertainty, the hope, and the despair of a loved one with any kind of illness.
No Rachael Ray talk today. I'm focusing my mental energy elsewhere.
No comments:
Post a Comment