As some of you know I am a recovering breast cancer patient, and the smallest
thing can send me running, mainly a lump! As some of you know, I have taken up
boxing since the first of the year. As the saying goes, don't sweat the small stuff, well what about the big stuff? We have to sweat it out in order to get rid of it....right? Well, you sweat, I glisten!
Folks, I have had an exciting week! For those of you that know me, you know I
have a very high tolerance to pain! I can and do endure quite a bit. A week ago,
I had this large, hard lump in my stomach that brought me to tears. I let it go
for a few days and then started making the round of calls, we can't see you
until the 16th Beth, I can't wait that long with this pain I told the
compassionate nurse. Well, he has surgery, he has no office hours, etc. You
know, all of you have heard these excuses. I got in my car and drove to my local
doctor, I just walked in, I asked her to write up an order for a CT scan. I
drove there, picked up the delicious milk shake, (haha) too bad it's not like
Wendy's, where you could drive through and get a Frosty! She told me to come
back at 9:00 the next morning. For those of you familiar or not with the CT
machine, it gives you directions as no one is allowed in the room with you.
Hands above my head, the machine rolls me in and says, "Take a breath and hold
it there!" Where? Where would you like me to hold it? I only hold my breath
under water! The machine rolls me back out and says "Carry on!" Are we on a
plane, are we talking about luggage for the overhead? Does it weigh more than
the allowed twenty five pounds? Hey, am I being singled out here? I could carry
on alright! All I kept thinking was, my dad would have no idea what the machine
was talking about with it's bad grammar and would have turned blue! How can one
take a machine serious when it has bad grammar? This wasn't even like the GPS
systems that speak with accents! And what if I wanted to hold my breath
someplace else, what then? And what if I carried on in that office and stamped
my foot like I'm known to do? Normally I only play well with others, not follow
directions too! I mean really, who can possibly do two things at once? Anyway, I
was finally finished and I asked to see the radiologist, he was great, he told
me I had a hard clump of fat from a procedure I had a year ago. FAT? Are you for
real doc? He put the scan up, got out his pointer and showed me my fat, not
quite a side of beef, but at least hamburger size! and to boot tells me I'm not
symmetrical!This must be due to the hamburger roll! Now my question of my
(hormonal) imbalance was finally answered, and I was on my way, fat by my side! Maybe I should buy a motorcycle with a side car just for my fat!
I called my doctor, sent him the scan and he told me that he could give me a
steroid injection and it would break up the fat. Great, I have a few other areas
that need immediate attention! Today, I finally got in to see him. I opened the
door, announced that George Foreman had indeed arrived and was promptly brought
back! My doctor walked in, still in scrubs, with orange hospital shoes or
perhaps he subs as a crossing guard at his kid's school at lunch time, and
says, show me this fat. I lift my shirt and show him and he says.... Are you
joking? This is MUSCLE! You have the beginning of a six pack! See what happens
when you box and work out? Why does it hurt doc? Maybe you PULLED it! At least now I don't have to wear one of those shirts that have muscles drawn on it! And at the very least, I don't have to tell people I left my muscles at home to have a rest! I'll take this hurt any day, it's a good hurt!Frankly I prefer the George Foreman grill over George Foreman muscles. NOT!
See you in the ring! Carry on! And make sure your boxing gloves are traveling
along with you, that is unless you'd like to bring me along....I'll pay the
overage as muscle weighs more than fat! This makes no sense though, a pound is a pound in my carry on luggage anyway!
