24 Hours

I'm writing this early into this journey, not knowing fully what is going on, but feeling like I need a place to put down my thoughts. It's been 24 hours...okay, at this point 23, but I'm not trying to be technical. I'm just trying to breathe. Here's the back story... About a month ago, I came down with a cough. This cough came on the heels of a sinus infection that I think I picked up from two baack to back Florida trips. Coming home from warm Florida to cold Indiana, back to warm Florida and back to cold Indiana in the span of two weeks can be brutal. I don't usually think much of colds - it's part of the fringe benefits that come with hanging out with 700 high schoolers who have a tendency to not wash their hands. I can handle colds. I got that sinus infection out of the way, and then the cough showed up. As coughs are wont to do, it got steadily worse, and I decided after a week of it to call the doctor. After the first round of antibiotics I was no better, so back to the doctor. Another round showed no improvement. At the second visit, it was recommended that I go in for a chest x-ray to check for pneumonia. Being the medical cheapskate that I am (spend money on Disney? Not a problem. Healthcare? Sketchy thought...), I decided to forego the x-ray in hopes that the second round of antibiotics would do the trick. They didn't. I called the doctor on Monday, and was sent for a chest x-ray which I did Monday afternoon after school (shout out to Harrison County Hospital - I was in and out in 15 minutes!). Tuesday afternoon came. I just got home, was doing my daily I-just-pulled-in-the-driveway bathroom visit, when the phone rang. Adept at multitasking, I took the call. "Do you have a minute to talk?" Sure. ***I was going nowhere - I was literally on the toilet (too much info? Get used to it...) "We got your x-ray back. It shows us that there is a mass-like density in your chest and we would like to get you scheduled for a CT scan as soon as your insurance signs off on it." Oh, okay. A mass-like density, you say? But no pneumonia? "No, no pneumonia. But there is a mass-like density. Do you have any questions?" Nope. I'm good. So you'll call when you hear back from insurance? "Yes. As soon as we hear something. Do you have any questions?" Nope. Thanks! "Okay. We'll call whenever we hear something from insurance. Bye!" I then free myself from the toilet and meander into the kitchen, where the wonderful Matt is doing dishes. "Hey, good news is I don't have pneumonia!" He turned and looked at me. "Bad news? There's a mass..." I kind of forget what I said after that. I called my parents and told them. Mom brought up good questions like, where is this mass? I had no idea. I asked no questions when I got the call - I was just happy that it wasn't pneumonia and it didn't register that this could be something more than that. So I called back, and here's what I know: I have a mass-like density in my right infrahilar region. No pleural effusion. My heart size is within normal limits. My mediastinal contour is grossly normal. I have mild multilevel degenerative changes present in my thoracic spine. So what does all this mean? My translation, as provided through Google Searches NOT webMD (as using webMD would mean that I should already be dead): I have a mass, not a nodule (modules are bigger - joy!), in my right lung. This is below where the lungs hook up with other parts of the body (like the heart, the windpipe, etc.). I don't have any water on the lung. My heart is normal, so for those of you who might say that I am heartless - here is proof otherwise. I don't know what a mediastinal contour is, but I like the idea of something being "grossly" normal. My spine? Well, they said age-related changes. Getting old sucks. After the call, after the research - I was fine. We went to see Frozen II, I ate a steak, life is good. I fell asleep with no issues. I woke up crying because I let things get to me. What if it is cancer? What's the survival rate? Can a person survive with one lung? How does a lung get removed? All day long I've let things sneak up on me. I'm trying to be strong, but I am a little worried. I should be. This could be serious. Or, I could have moved a little while getting the x-ray. I hope that's it. I hope I get the CT scan and it shows nothing. I hope that you never read this, because if you do, it means that something serious is happening and I am going to be really tested. Man, I hope you don't read this. I hope I don't make another entry on this blog.