The Bump that Was

 11.18.2021

 So, like a good patient, I applied the hot pack as directed.  Gee, how I wish I had been given some specifics on what to expect.  I put it under my arm for two nights in a row and continued my typical routine of watching evening tv shows with the dogs.  It wasn’t an unpleasant task.  Then things changed. 

The bump kind of did a turtle maneuver and withdrew back into the tissue.  But it felt hot.  And it was angry red in the shape of a quarter.  I was temporarily worried.  Well, honestly for about 2 days.  Then like so many people who think the Old Ways may offer some relief, I took matters into my own hands.  If things weren’t going to come to a head, I could facilitate the process. 

You know those pads you can buy at the state fair or places like that that are supposed to detox the bottom of your feet?  Well, why wouldn’t that work on, well, elsewhere????  So, the third night I put that patch right over the red, hot angry area.  And you know what happened?  Absolutely nothing.  That was kind of good because I was worried if it backfired and something dramatic happened, I did not want to be on the receiving-end of The Look that medical providers give you when you are doing something dorky and non-medical.

The next morning, I was washing my face with this gentle, green clay cleanser.  And I thought to myself:  if this is supposed to draw out impurities from my face, then, “why wouldn’t that work on, well, elsewhere???” (see the repetitive train of logic.)  I thought that did nothing until the next day.  Then, something happened that necessitated paper towels and antibiotic bandaids.  That’s really all you need to know.  It is less red now.  The story is not over.  The little turtle is still lurking.  To add insult to injury, we are going to do a mammogram tomorrow (think slamming garage door on your chest analogy, as previously mentioned).

I am not scared.  I fully expect them to pat me on the hand and tell me it was just a cyst and it will resolve “over time” …. Kind of like when as kid I fell and bruised my knee and my father – bastion of sympathy that he is – said, “Stop crying.  It will heal up by the time you get married.”  Little did I know that I could have my whole body replaced piece by piece if I needed to … “before I got married.”  But one thing I already know about that procedure tomorrow:  it’s going to hurt – it doesn’t usually – and I am going to cry.  I am going to cry so that I don’t use any bad words.  Then I will walk out of that office, thank the Good Lord that this is no big deal and cry some more…. Because it’s going to hurt.  And I’m STILL not even engaged.

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