And I'm usually so good at online researching...

So, I had always typed in "Hodgkin's" into Google, not "Hodgkin's blog," which is why I never got Hodgkin's blogs. Fancy that. I now typed in the latter and have found oodles of resources. It seems, from blogs from Hodgkin's patients, that we all use humor as a defense mechanism. Not only is it entertaining to read, but it's also reassuring to know I'm not crazy or insensitive, or at least that crazy insensitivity is normal in this whole experience. I think it's just the ability to have a good attitude about everything. So there.

Remember that board game "Operation?"

Well, I feel like the guy on that board, with all those holes and people poking and prodding him. It would be pretty funny if my nose lit up like that, but probably really stressful for the doctor's if I made that awful buzzing sound.

Yesterday I had a bone marrow aspiration - meaning, they stole my bone marrow and a piece of bone, all from my pelvis. I'm going to be honest and say that it hurt. Well, it only really hurt a couple times in the moment, but the pain didn't linger: Time 1) When my newly-introduced oncologist injected me with the anesthetic (prick + intense burning/stinging). Time 2) When said oncologist sucked out the bone marrow (massive ache INSIDE - weird/painful sensation). Other than that, it was okay.

The oncologist who stole my marrow and bone (which was the size of a toothpick(!) BY THE WAY) is absolutely fantastic, even though he STOLE MY BONEZ. I'm just a treasure trove of cool infected parts, huh?

Anyway, his name is Dr. Chen, and he's wonderful. I'm so happy to have him as my oncologist, and I think he's going to be great through this whole process.

Something I'm WAY too young to be dealing with, though, is the prospect of my eggs being HARVESTED (I hate that term with a passion...) and frozen. I'm 22, and sure, a lot of women have kids at this age, but I'm just not ready. But I still have to think about this because a lot of people are left sterile after chemotherapy and radiation. The eggs have to be taken out and frozen before I start chemo, so I probably won't start chemo for another 2 months (but the doc says it appears that my Hodgkin's is still pretty new, so we don't have to rush into it). It takes 2 months to deal with the eggs because I have to give myself injections of hormones for a month so that when it's finally time to take out (I refuse to use the word "harvest") the eggs, a lot will fall, not just one or two like standard periods.

I want to have kids someday, just not now, so this will preserve that possibility. Dr. Chen told me that after chemo/radiation, there's a chance I could still get my period, but be sterile. Well, that's a lose-lose right there, so I might as well freeze some of these li'l suckers before it's too late. The really crazy thing, though, is that egg freezing is still somewhat experimental, but embryonic freezing is much more reliable, so I could get a sperm donor (weird) and fertilize some eggs and then freeze them. Trevor and I talked about it, and since we've decided we want to get married, he would be the obvious sperm donor. HOWEVER, this would be really awkward to talk to my mom about. AND I HAVE MY FIRST CONSULTATION WITH MY MOM AND THE FERTILITY DOCTOR TODAY. Yikes. I mean, it's obvious to everyone that Trevor and I are going to get married someday, so why is this so awkward?? Oh well, I'll have to just take the plunge today and tell her straight up.

So, wish me luck and I'll update when I can. I have a breathing test on Monday, and I have to schedule a bunch of other tests (mostly imaging, I think - like the PET scan, where they inject me with RADIOACTIVE SUGARS (sooooo cool!) and then x-ray me for 3 HOURS). I really want to write about each one of the tests, though, so other people going through this can get a real step-by-step timeline of what happens (well, I know it's different for everyone, but this might help a bit). I couldn't really find one myself, so this is for those of you who want a Map of Hodgkin's, complete with scenic drives and tourist stops. Oh, and those beautiful lookout points.

Hodgkin's Shmodgkin's

So, it's official: I have cancer. 

Hodgkin's Lymphoma to be exact, cancer of the lymphatic system.

But, I now have something to actually blog about!

I had an excisional biopsy on Wednesday to extract a supraclavicular (above-the-clavical) lymph node. Going through it reminded me how I deal with medical stress: I become a stand-up comedian. I wouldn't say I'm the funniest person on a regular basis (despite what Trevor says), but when I'm subconsciously freaked out by the fact that doctors are about to slice me open, I use comedy as a defense mechanism, and to be honest, I think I was pretty damn funny.

At my 6am check-in, I received a beautiful, personalized diamond and sapphire hospital bracelet (I wish), and once my family and I got settled into our own waiting room, I was given a ruby-encrusted penicillin allergy bracelet (I wish). I nearly passed out when the nurse screwed up the first IV (I knew I shouldn't have looked), and turned greener than a seasick sailor until she finally got the second one right and got the IV juice flowin'.

The actual surgery took somewhere between half an hour to an hour, but to me, it seemed like a five-minute nap. Medical science today is absolutely unbelievable. The whole process was absolutely painless, and seemed like it didn't even happen. The only indicator that anything had happened was when I woke up in the recovery room with an oxygen tube up my nose, and later when I found yellow iodine gunk smeared on my chest (which I have yet to get off entirely because I haven't been allowed to bathe because of the incision). I bet the doctors tore my hospital gown wide open to get a good view of my cute little boobs (did I just say that?). Well, I guess it's okay they take a peek. After all, they're saving my life.

40-year-old not-so-virgin

Funny how when I was younger I felt so grown up.

I'm graduating in three days and sometimes I feel like I'm still such a kid. Well, a kid who likes to play Scrabble, and drink wine sparingly, and go on walks around the lake and watch the other 40-somethings walk by.

More incisions (*shudder* I hate that word)

After that novel-length needle biopsy entry, turns out the results were "inconclusive," and they want to do a full-on surgical biopsy on Thursday evening. My mom might be flying down to take care of me over the weekend, even though the doctor assured me it's a pretty simple procedure.

Jessica told me I was really brave. I appreciated that.

Stuff

Unfortunately, I can't embed this one, but I highly recommend watching it:

George Carlin talks about STUFF

B-B-Bee-Bop-See

So... this will be a more serious entry. Not bad, exactly. Just more... serious.

Just for some background, about a month ago (to the day), I noticed two enlarged lymph nodes just above my left collarbone. I went to Student Health and had blood tests done. Then I was referred to another doctor off-campus. Who then referred me to another doctor (a Nose, Throat, and Neck specialist). Who then referred me for a CT scan. And then told me I had to get more blood tests before I had the procedure I had today.

To make a long story short, I had a biopsy today. An image-guided, core needle biopsy, to be exact. Basically, the kind you're awake for. With a thicker needle.

I had been told it was excruciatingly painful, so I was prepared for the worst. In actuality, it was virtually painless! 

Me = VERY RELIEVED/HAPPY

Anyhow, because I'm such a NERD FACE, I'm going to go ahead and explain the procedure. If you start to feel like vomit is about to launch from your insides, you should probably stop reading. But really, it's not that gross, I promise.

Okay, before any actual "surgery" happened, a nurse (who reminded me a LOT of Angela from "The Office") did an ultrasound of my neck. Yep, just like they do for women who are preggers. But thank goodness there was no baby inside my neck.

The ultrasound allowed them to see exactly where the lumps were, as well as where major blood flow was located so they didn't accidentally stick me in the jugular. Or carotid. Or any other number of fancy arteries flowing through the area.

1) The Anesthetic

The first part - and most painful part - is the local anesthetic. Well, actually, the very first thing they do is make you get into a hospital gown (the word "gown" makes it sound so much prettier than it actually is...), and then disinfect the to-be-dissected area with three (count 'em: 1, 2, 3) brown disinfecting swabs. Then the doctor surrounds the area with a sticky paper. I was convinced this paper was put in place so blood wouldn't go flooding everywhere, but the doctor assured me it was just to keep the region "sterile." Sure.

THEN, the doctor told me he was going to stick me with the local anesthetic needle. And that it was going to BURN.

And it did. And I said, "Shit," right in the doctor's face. But I think it was okay because he didn't say anything. I'm sure he gets that reaction all the time.

2) The Incision

Next, he said he was going to make a small incision in my neck.

First off: The word incision is such an awful-sounding word. Merriam-Webster, please think of a new term. Quickly.

Okay, back to talking about the INCISION he was going to make in my NECK. Let's just say I now understand how vampire victims feel. Except, not exactly how they feel because I DIDN'T FEEL A THING! The anesthetic worked like a CHARM! So, even though I was laying there, helpless, with a scalpel at my throat, I felt completely fine! I ♥ you, neck-numbing solution!

3) The Sample Extraction

The doctor said he would have to take three different samples (he ended up taking four because the third extraction wasn't successful, but it was fine because I COULDN'T FEEL ANYTHING!). I told him I didn't want to see the needle before the procedure, but after the procedure, he taught me all about it. And I am now going to forward my newfound medical knowledge to all of you.

Here are two pictures of what was stuck into my neck. The first image is of the core needle instrument (the lower instrument), and the second image is of the needle itself, and how a piece of tissue is extracted (Forget the "Formalin" in the second picture. I have no idea what they're talking about there. I'm not THAT big of a nerd face.):

Ta-dah! So that's what they did to my neck today, and I even got to see the little extracted tissue bits. And it was SO COOL. And my NERD FACE-ness was reaffirmed.

I'm still really surprised it didn't hurt at all, especially from what I had heard. I completely psyched myself out.

Oh, and I'd like to thank Jessica for going with me. She's a fantastic friend, even though she didn't stay in the room for the actual extraction. I don't blame her one bit!

The annoying part of it all is that I have to wait an ENTIRE WEEK for the results, which is a little nerve-wracking, but I'm doing my best to distract myself... Graduation is in 15 days!