There really is no other way to put it; I know it lacks flourish, panache, etc. But there you have it.
George Costanza once said, “My little voice is an idiot.” I’m hoping mine is too.
Lately though mine has been saying, “It’s baaaack.”
God I hope I’m wrong.
I won’t bore you with the litany of symptoms that could be something else, suffice it to say I’m feeling things that give my pause. Yesterday, though I told my bride about my feelings and we cried for a bit and went out and bought shoes. To be precise we went out and I bought shoes; Topsiders actually (maybe I’ve gotten too close to my feminine side).
The point is, I could go to the oncologist and get things checked out, but I have an appointment the 20th and I’ve been planning a mini-vacation starting this Friday thru next week and I’ll be Goddamned if I’m gonna miss that. I spent all last summer in one form of medical care or another and I’m not doing that shit again until I have to.
If the lymphoma comes back it’s not like it is going to kill me (well it could) but most Burkitt’s fighters get a relapse then they are cured. I was kind of hoping to skip the relapse – maybe I will.
Like I said this could all be a nexus of other things piling up a the same time mimicking some things I went through before – squidgy stomach, might be the nexium for acid reflux (don’t ask); a pain in my arm pit may just be a tendon pull from a weekend of gardening; abdominal pain may just be that I’ve gotten fat and the extra weight is pulling on my scar.
At least I have new shoes.