Well How About That?

It turns out that my thyroid is not acting up at all. It just looks like it might be because I've gotten so skinny.

It all started when I noticed a lump at the bottom of my neck a couple of weeks ago, right where the thyroid would be. I couldn't honestly remember whether that lump was supposed to be there or if something was not right.

Well the lump is supposed to there. Everything's perfectly normal. The ultra-sound showed nothing and neither did the blood tests. It just seems like it sticks out because I've lost so much weight.

(shrugging shoulders)

Cancer can be strange.

Basically I've gone through my life not thinking too much about my body. I was raised to be a gladiator. Laps, sprints, constant exercise, climbing trees, riding bikes, you name it I did it. And I'm not just talking about the regular regimen that typical youth go through. I went through constant drills, constant practice, to tone me into a gladiator for matches in the colosseums.

I've always had pains, injuries, and aches. I never thought too much about them. I just shrugged them off and kept going. The pains always went away and got better. It would be stranger to me if I didn't have some kind of pain somewhere.

Two broken ankles, two cracked ribs, a fractured skull, stitches from head to toe, constant bruises all over, that's been normal life to me.

I can tell my perspective is different than most. When Barb bumps her shin into the coffee table it's a big deal to her, and I do understand. She's the normal one.

I bump my shin into something everyday. It's another bruise, no big deal, move on.

But cancer changed all of that for me. Now I question everything, examine everything, make sure the body is working the way it is supposed to. I don't enjoy questioning my body so critically. I'd rather go back to being a gladiator. But, with cancer, it just has to be that way, or so it seems.

Doctors don't really examine people anymore. There's no more lie down then poke here and poke there. There's no more stick your tongue out and say "Ahhhh." There's no more, "OK give me a couple of real deep breaths," while the cold stethescope is run across your back and chest.

I don't know exactly when or why this went by the wayside.

Now you just sit down and have a conversation with your doctor. So I try to check myself out and communicate my "findings" to the doctor.

Living with the reality that cancer could show up anywhere in my body at any moment and at anytime - I'm doing plenty of poking and feeling and questioning, certainly far more than I ever did before.

I remind myself though, the reality is that something could pop up inside any of our bodys at anytime with little or no warning. That's the reality of all of our lives. That doesn't necessarily make me any different.

Maybe I'm just graduating to "retired gladiator" status, being a little wiser, and aware of my body. Maybe I'm just finally joining the reality everyone else always faced and I ignored?