Debbie Does Drivel

So I start not feeling good Thursday night, when I feel a swollen lymph node in my neck. Then, my whole throat feels lumpy and swollen and hot. I feel rundown and dizzy. Friday night, I could not partake of beverage as I miserably counted the hours until we could repectably leave our friend's party. I am feeling a little out of it, and I don't censor myself as I might usually when in conversation. In fact, I pretty much act like "my real self" in public -- the one Kevin and my family know well. This means I am weird, meandering, stream-of-consciousnessy. This means I say things like, "I have to poo."
A couple of times, I think I may have embarrassed Kev, though he never told me so.
I truly could not apply boundaries to how I acted. It's like I was all out there and you couldn't make me obey social mores if you tried. I was too low-energy to apply any effort to watching what I said.
At any rate, I continue not feeling good. Saturday, I couldn't go on the weekly gals hike because I felt so exhausted. The lump in my neck is still there. When Kev and I go out to dinner Saturday night, I had to cut it short because I felt dizzy, numb, and light-headed.
Sunday is pretty much the same. So I get on the Internet and search for "throat cancer."
This is what I have.
Despite my illness, I make it to a BBQ Sunday night and come home early to sleep.
I happen to look into my throat Monday and see an ugly mass in the back of my throat where my tonsil should be. It is a tumor-like growth.
Back to the web, where I see throat cancer can be caused, in part, by excessive alcohol and nicotine use. Check one. Check two.
Tuesday, I call the doc and get in for an appointment. Though down and out, I am able to go rollerblading that evening with my speech pathologist friend, Lisa.
She knows the throat well. She looks into my mouth and says, "Oh. There is something there. I just thought you were being a hypochondriac."
She doesn't know what the growth is, but looks concerned.

So, this AM I saw the doctor, who told me that the thing in my mouth WAS my tonsil and it is inflamed and that it is probably caused by sinus trouble. She gave me nose spray and ordered a CAT scan of my sinuses.
So, hopefully, no throat cancer...but what if they find a brain tumor?

I haven't really wanted to talk lately.
I've been reading and hearing so much melodramatic, overblown crap this last week, that I didn't want to add to it.
This disaster has been a matter I want to bring within; there is no conversation I can have which would express what's roiling around inside of me.
People tend to say the same things over and over again, and this is OK, because that's how some deal with it, but it's not how I cope.
I need to think and feel and assess first.
Although you can't know how those directly affected by this can feel, you can empathize, and just that empathy is sometimes too big to handle; I can't imagine the real thing.

I have read and heard so many viewpoints on this matter, and I can take something from all of them. I can't say 100% that the U.S. is justified in its angry retaliation; though I agree justice must be served. Sometimes, I can see the U.S. through the world's eyes -- and I perceive along with the rest of them that we are like a big bossy brother who expects things to be done our way. Then, the next second, I swept up by patriotism and cry at "America the Beautiful." I see that this tragedy is something which can help unite our country, help us re-focus on what's important in our lives, and re-acquaint us with that good, old-fashioned, "can-do" attitude. But I also admit that nationalism can lead us fanaticism and this can create problems as well.

This whole horribleness is bigger than last Tuesday's tragedy, and yet it's not. I remember that when I open the paper and see a photo of someone I know comforting her daughter whose lost her husband in the World Trade Center collapse. Then, I see another picture of an Afghan child who lost their father in one of the country's hundreds of bombings over the years and I remember it's not just about us...though I want it to be. And again, I can't reconcile what I instinctually feel and what I know to be right. So, words fail me another time, and I don't want to talk.

I got this via e-mail today from a friend who works at Accenture in Chicago. Apparently, a professional friend of hers sent it to her after flying home a few days after the WTC/Wash D.C. events. I thought it was interesting, and I hope it's true. I'm a sucker for these human spirit, "we won't let them get us down" stories:

"I just wanted to drop you all a note and let you know that I arrived
safe and sound into Dulles Airport tonight [9/15] at about 6:00. It was
an interesting flight.

The airport in Denver was almost spooky, it was so empty and quiet. No
one was in line for the security check point when I got there so that
went fairly quickly, just x-ray of my bags and then a chemical test to be
sure nothing explosive was on them.

Then I waited 2 1/2 hours to board the plane. What happened after we
boarded was interesting and thought I would share it with you.

The pilot/captain came on the loudspeaker after the doors were closed.
His speech went like this:

'First I want to thank you for being brave enough to fly today. The
doors are now closed and we have no help from the outside for any problems
that might occur inside this plane. As you could tell when you checked
in, the government has made some changes to increase security in the
airports.

They have not, however, made any rules about what happens after those
doors close. Until they do that, we have made our own rules and I want
to share them with you. Once those doors close, we only have each
other.

The security has taken care of a threat like guns with all of the
increased scanning, etc. Then we have the supposed bomb. If you have a bomb,
there is no need to tell me about it, or anyone else on this plane; you are
already in control. So, for this flight, there are no bombs that exist
on this plane.

Now, the threats that are left are things like plastics, wood, knives,
and other weapons that can be made or things like that which can be used
like weapons.

Here is our plan and our rules. If someone or several people stand up
and say they are hijacking this plane, I want you all to stand up
together. Then take whatever you have available to you and throw it at
them. Throw it at their faces and heads so they will have to raise
their hands to protect themselves.

The very best protection you have against knives are the pillows and
blankets. Whoever is close to these people should then try to get a
blanket over their head--then they won't be able to see. Once that is
done, get them down and keep them there. Do not let them up. I will
then land the plane at the closest place and we WILL take care of them.

After all, there are usually only a few of them and we are 200+ strong!
We will not allow them to take over this plane.

I find it interesting that the US Constitution begins with the words
"We, the people"--that's who we are, THE people and we will not be defeated.'

With that, the passengers on the plane all began to applaud, people had
tears in their eyes, and we began the trip toward the runway.

The flight attendant then began the safety speech. One of the things
she said is that we are all so busy and live our lives at such a fast pace.

She asked that everyone turn to their neighbors on either side and
introduce themselves, tell each other something about your families and children,
show pictures, whatever. She said "for today, we consider you family.
We will treat you as such and ask that you do the same with us."

Throughout the flight we learned that for the crew, this was their
first flight since Tuesday's tragedies. It was a day that everyone leaned on
each other and together everyone was stronger than any one person
alone.

It was quite an experience."

I still don't really feel like talking, or writing, as the case may be.
I'm sure my rankles will rise again, but in the meantime, I'm just going through the slushpile and posting some of it here.

This comes from a commercial pilot who moderates a Fear of Flying forum I subscribe to (not Atomic)...

His name is Tom Bunn and usually he is very reassuring about flight...BUT he has real concerns about airline security. Here is what he had to say in a recent e-mail to his subscribers:

SHOULD YOU FLY?

Security is not adequate to keep a terrorist off the plane. Security is not adequate to protect the cockpit once a terrorist is on a plane. If you take a flight, and nothing happens, is is because terrorists were not interested in your flight - NOT because security protected you from their efforts.

I have it from reliable sources that three people boarded an early morning United Airlines flight on September 11th at JFK, and the pilots received a security warning from flight operations, requiring them to return to the gate. At the gate, a passenger service agent came onboard, and asked these men for identification, whereupon the dashed off the plane and jumped in a taxi. If these three are terrorists who aborted their "mission" and are still at large, will they make a further attempt or turn to other projects? It might seem reasonable to think that to hijack one more airliner at this point would be anticlimactic. Bin Laden associates so far have moved on to different "projects" without an encore. That pattern may be somewhat assuring.

Yet, we need real security - not relinquish our safety to fate.

WHAT CAN YOU DO TO HELP GET REAL SECURITY?

Please consider emailing or writing your senator and congressperson insisting real security be put in place. Information on how to contact your representatives can be found in your phone book in the government pages, or using an on-line search engine, or at this address:

http://thomas.loc.gov/home/legbranch/cis.html

My throat is still bothering me...so I went to the doctor again a few weeks ago.
She wanted to do a range of tests -- including a throat culture and blood test (yechh).
She had my CAT scan sinus results from my first visit and found nothing there, except an very old fracture on my face (this prompted a phone call to my dad, who upon prodding, admitted I had once taken a scary tumble from a high chair. I prefer to think that my face broke after my brother threw me to the floor because I beat him at Mr Do!).
Anyway, my doc wanted to rule out allergies, strep, other infections, etc. The blood test was to rule out low white blood cell count, and diabetes.
In a nutshell: strep and bacterial cultures come back negative, allergy medication didn't make much difference, and blood is fine (though I don't think they ever tested for diabetes).
This not testing for diabetes is a bummer b/c if this thing persists, I'm sure I'll have to have my blood drawn again, and I don't know if I can do it.

This blood thing had me in a tizzy. First of all, I had a measly 2 weeks to have my blood test (after that the lab order expired)...so I put it off, and put it off, and decided not to do it...then decided I should do it, and yadda yadda. Then, when I had four days to go before the order expired, I drove to the office, walked in, took a look around, and walked out.

That evening, I made the HUGE mistake of telling Kevin of my cowardice. He promptly made me promise that I would go the next day. And since I cannot break a promise to my new husband (BAD marital luck), he knew I'd have to now go have my blood test.

The next day at work, I am praying to God for courage, asking my holistic health co-worker to "unruffle" the negative energy field around my vein, calling the blood lab to ask for a nurse who is "good with wimps," and making phone calls to my dad, all in the name of motivating me to get that dreaded blood test.

The last call to my dad had me begging him to yell at me for being so petty. That with all the tragedy surrounding the last few weeks, I am selfish to be worried about my stupid blood test. At first his heart wasn't in it, then after many verbal cues from me, he jumped on board and ripped me a new one. I hung up the phone with new resolve.

I quickly jumped in my car to capitalize on my dad's motivating (yet emotionally damaging) harangue and drove to the lab.
I walk in and kind of hung back at the back of the office. Some very rude people who came in after me took advantage of my feebleness and cut in front of me (which at the time was OK with me).
There is only one guy in the office who is both the front desk help AND the blood drawer, which makes me nervous. Is he the janitor trained as a phlebotomist as a cost-cutting measure? I hope not.

While I'm waiting, I rattle my knees up and down, and give jittery smiles to those around me. B/c my knees are shaking, I drop my magazine and lab paperwork on the floor dozens of times (yet I still inexplicably keep re-placing them on my lap). The waiting room population thinks I'm batty.

One guy comes out after his blood test and as he's leaving, evilly says "good luck," with the words real drawn out-like...as if I'm gonna need luck cuz the janitor/lab tech is inexperienced, shaky, and unsanitary.

When it's my turn, I tell the guy that I know my issues are petty, but I really hate having my blood drawn and would he please take the blood from a spot specified in advance from me (right arm, outside left vein, about a half-inch below the crook of my elbow)? Also, would he use a "butterfly" (the needle used on children)...and is it OK if I wear my walkman?

He agrees.

He unfurls the latex tourquinet (I REALLY hate those things) and circles my arm with it.

With one last prayer, I turn my eyes upward as I beseech God to numb the pain.

The needle is out before I complete my platitudes. I barely felt a thing.

But now I have a bruise. It better not swell into a life-threatening blood clot.