A Message

And now, a message from the Sturgeon-General:

Warning! Eating caviar may be harmful to your health.

I met with the general surgeon today, who I quickly came to think of as the surgeon-general, and then the sturgeon-general. I have a node (not the node, because he didn't seem sure which one he most fancied yet) removed Monday, and this is a big step. It's where they finally arrive at a final diagnosis of what it is. Is it lymphoma? And if so, what sort? I confess there's a part of me that thinks that even at this late hour they'll reject the lymphoma diagnosis and say "Oh, it was just tuleremia or a bad cold or the funky chicken or something." But four out of four doctors think it's lymphoma; it's hard to argue with that kind of surety.

Time to get started. I'm losing leg function at a rate that in a week will probably cripple me. The weird thing is that I can walk and stand fairly normally, but I'm losing the ability to put on shoes, socks and pants, and I'm having trouble getting in and out of cars. The surgeon felt that once chemo started the nodes would just melt away and things would be better. That's a thought I believe I'll cling to.