Thing 1, Thing 2, and the Audacity of My Lymphatic System

Thing 1, Thing 2, and the Audacity of My Lymphatic System

Well. This is not the plot twist I ordered.

Somewhere along the way, my body decided to audition for a reboot of The Cat in the Hat and introduced me to two uninvited guests: Thing 1 and Thing 2. These are not quirky houseguests who clean up after themselves. No, no. These are two slightly overachieving, metabolically enthusiastic lymph nodes who showed up on a PET scan like, “Hi. We glow now.”

Let’s set the scene.

I go in for a routine scan—just a casual “let’s see what’s going on in there” moment—and BOOM. Radiology is like:

“We have… activity.”

Activity?? Ma’am, I did not sign up for extracurriculars.

So now we have:

  • Thing 1: Hanging out in the chest like it owns the place
  • Thing 2: Down in the pelvic region, minding none of its business

Both small. Both stable. Both apparently committed to being just suspicious enough to be annoying, but not dramatic enough to make a clear decision. Honestly? The audacity.


The Plot Thickens (But Only Slightly)

We did a biopsy. Or at least… we tried to.

Result:

“No lymph node tissue seen.”

Translation: We knocked on the door, and Thing 2 said, “New phone, who dis?”

So that was helpful.

Meanwhile, my CA-125 decided to briefly spike like it was trying out for a stress response Olympics, then casually drift back down like, “Just kidding, I’m chill.”

Which leaves my medical team in the most relatable place possible:

🤔 “Hmmm.”


Current Status: Schrödinger’s Nodes

At this point, Thing 1 and Thing 2 exist in a quantum state of:

  • Maybe inflammation
  • Maybe recurrence
  • Definitely annoying

They haven’t grown.
They haven’t spread.
They haven’t packed their bags and left (rude).

So now we wait. Again.

Next PET scan: July 22
Because apparently my life is now a limited series called “Let’s Check Again in Three Months.”


The Silver Lining (Yes, There Is One)

If these are troublemakers, they are:

  • small
  • contained
  • slow-moving
  • and not inviting friends over

Which, in the world of unwanted biological plot twists, is basically the best-case scenario.

So if I had to pick a type of recurrence (which, to be clear, I would prefer “none”), this would be the one where the nodes are like:

“We’re here… but we’re not trying too hard.”

Relatable, honestly.


Final Thoughts from a Reluctant Host

I don’t know yet if Thing 1 and Thing 2 are:

  • temporary squatters
  • or long-term freeloaders

But I do know this:

I’m being watched closely.
Nothing is spiraling.
And for now, the situation is stable.

So I’m choosing—not blind optimism—but a kind of practical peace with:

“We’ll deal with it when we actually know what it is.”

In the meantime, if anyone has tips on evicting tiny, overdramatic lymph nodes, I’m all ears.

Stay tuned. I got this.

Ten Ways You Can Change the World

I am just crazy enough to think I can change the world, but not so crazy that I think I can do it alone. That’s where you come in!

10 ways you can change the world:

ChangeTheWorld_insta

  1. Follow this blog
  2. Follow me on Twitter
  3. Follow me on Instagram
  4. Comment, Like, and Share
  5. Join my Relay For Life team
  6. Donate to Relay For Life on my page
  7. Learn the symptoms of ovarian cancer
  8. Talk to someone about ovarian cancer today
  9. Check your box (and/or remind a friend to check theirs)
  10. Help me get onto Ellen’s show

I’m not holding you to that last one I just needed a 10th way, but if you know someone…

Thank you for your time!


Don’t worry, I got this

❤ P

 

Be Silent_leaderboard

 

World Domination, Step 1 | Increase Awareness

While talking with one of my doctors today, I mentioned that I might reduce posts to only once a week because it doesn’t look like my posts are being read by many folks. Then I rattled off the concerns I have: are my posts too long? are they poorly written? am I posting to frequently? After all, I’ve had people complain about my Facebook posts in the past, saying they muted me because I flooded their feed. Is that what’s happening here? Should I focus on one topic a week and do it up right? I mean, if my friends don’t even want to read my blog, why would a complete stranger? How will I ever effect any change if I’m just shouting into the void?

spreadtheword_insta

 

After a beat, he asked me if writing these posts was helping me?

Certainly, getting these thoughts out of my head onto the page has been a huge help.

Does writing as often as you do work for you?

At least for right now it does, there’s a lot of thoughts rolling around in my head.

I certainly don’t intend to discount the need for increased research, but isn’t the biggest issue a lack of awareness? There are people out there that don’t even know ovarian cancer is a thing and early detection is key…

NotKnowing_TumblrGraphic

Yes, and I’ve heard of friends who were aware having to beg their doctor to investigate their symptoms because they can so easily be written off as symptoms of aging.

Right. In my opinion, if your posts save just one woman that would be huge.

So, I’m going to keep going. I’m still looking for my voice and trying to figure out what works for me, but if you hang in there with me I promise I’ll get the hang of this eventually. And maybe, just maybe, these posts will help someone else besides just me.

If, like my sister, you think this blog might help someone who loves a survivor understand what they are going through and you know someone who might benefit, would you please consider sharing with them? I’d be ever so grateful!


Don’t worry, I’ve got this!

❤ P

TalkAboutIt_Leaderboard