Diary of a Network Geek

Well, I went to the doctor for my results today.

According to the doctor, I have an “unidentified mass” in my right lung, along with fluid and some excess fluid around my heart. Obviously, the concern here is cancer. I used to smoke, though not much, and I have a family history of cancer. On the other hand, it could just be an adenopathy as a result of having such a bad infection for so long. That’s sort of what I’m hoping for, but we’ve got a ways to go before figuring it out.
Friday morning at 9:45am, I have an appointment with a pulmonary specialist to see about getting a biopsy done. My doctor talked to MD Anderson, but going through them could take four to six weeks to get as far as a biopsy. That’s why my doctor went ahead and referred me to the specialist. My timeline should be compressed from many weeks to one or two. Not sure about what this proceedure will entail, but I know they’ll knock me out, so I’ll most likely have to arrange for someone to take me to the proceedure and take me home again. Luckily, I have legions of friends who have already volunteered.

I really, truly had no idea how many people cared about me. I’ve gotten several calls this afternoon already and, in spite of my protestations, I have friends coming over with food tonight. My minister is going to call later, as are several friends I’ve been in touch with via e-mail. I hope it will put my mother at ease to know that so many people are ready to take care of her little boy, so far away from home.

I don’t think I mentioned last night when I wrote that entry, but C. offered to help me with my dog and so on if I had to go into the hospital when we thought I might need to get the lung drained, though she allowed that I had plenty of friends that would be more than willing to help. I was talking to her on the phone, which is a good thing because I’m sure my jaw was hanging slack. I’m not quite sure what’s up with her, but she seems caught between wanting to have a friendly relationship with me and… Well, and keeping some kind of distance. I’m not sure if it’s because of the prohibition on her dating someone from work, or something else, but I definately feel the distance that she’s trying to maintain.  But, don’t judge her too harshly.  Her heart really is in the right place, even if she has some issues right now.  God knows, I’ve been through plenty of that kind of nonsense myself.

So, I guess I’ll update you all again after I know more from the pulmonary specialist.  If you’re the praying kind, now’s a good time to add me to your list.

Well, I had my CT scan this morning.

I headed over to my doctor’s office this morning, arriving very early.  In fact, a good thirty minutes before they opened.  So, I called work to make sure C. knew where I was at and gave her my cell number, in case there was an IT emergency.  Then, I had her transfer me over to the president’s voice-mail, since I report to him, I thought he should know where I was all morning.  Seemed reasonable.  Not that it’s a big deal.  I generally work more hours than all but two or three of the salaried people at my office, so they can afford to give me a little leeway about this pneumonia thing.
So, naturally, I’m on the phone with yet a third person when they open the office and a mess of people get in before me, so I sit and wait another thirty minutes just to get my blood drawn and my order for the CT scan.  Then, I hot-foot it over to the imaging center so I can wait a little more.  Something close to an hour and a half, but they got me in the same day, so it’s not so bad.  Oh, and apparently, my insurance doesn’t cover the CT scan so I had to cough up $450.  Thank God this is a month we get three paychecks!  Normally, I hate getting paid every two weeks, but this month it’s going to work out very well for me.
It was an “open” CT scan, which means it was basically just a donut they passed me through.  But, I had to lay flat on my back.  I got down on my back and immediately started breathing heavy.  The genius tech looked at me and asked if I was having trouble breathing.  I thought, yeah, moron, that’s what the funny look on my face means and why I’m making that strange whistling noise!  But, instead of saying that, I reminded him that I was here because I had pneumonia and probably a lung full of fluid.  So, he told me how the machine was going to ask me to hold my breath and that if I couldn’t, to just let it out slowly and breathe back in slowly, too.  While I couldn’t hold my breath all the way every time, I was able to get by with just a slow exhale to finish out the count for the nice machine overlord.

Now, the doctor didn’t say it, but I’m sure he was checking for cancer, since I have a family history of that.  The tech seemed to think it was just a lung full of fluid from the pneumonia.  I would be surprised at this point if I ended up with cancer.  A bit early for my family, and I’m much more aware of it than anyone else in my family and have made dietary changes to suit my family medical history.  High-fiber and, usually, light on the red meat.  More fish and chicken and even straight vegetarian sometimes.  I know, I know, heresy in Texas, but there you have it.  (Though I have to admit I do have a weakness for bacon.  “Bacon makes it better!”)
So, tomorrow morning at 11:30am, I go see the doctor to get the results.  And, no doubt, several prescriptions to drain the lung and fix whatever else ails me.  Hopefully, I won’t have to go into the hospital to get my lung drained, but whatever the doctor tells me to do, I’ll just do.  Now that I’m under a doctor’s care, it would be foolish to do any less.

What was interesting, though, was the call I got about 1:00pm.  C. had been out to lunch when I finally came back, so she didn’t know I was in the office.  She called on my cell phone to see how I was doing.  She lost her mother to cancer, so she knows why they tend to send folks for CT scans in situations like this.  It was a little surprising to me that she’d get worried.  Honestly, she’d started to get rather predictable, even going back to her old, less-than-kind  boyfriend when she was denied her work-related dating.  Took about as long as I thought it would, too.  Under two weeks.  Predictable.  But, the concern was a bit of a novelty.  She even apologized for not being as good a friend as she should have been when she saw me in person next.
The other surprise was the other girl who started at the same time C. did, O. coming by to check on me.  I don’t think I’ve ever done more than exchange a few pleasantries with her, maybe flirt a little, but she seemed quite genuinely concerned for my health.
Honestly, I had no idea so many people worried about me!  It’s sort of nice to know.  And, I’m sure my mother is relieved to know that people are looking out for me down here, so far away that she can’t.

So, still, no real news yet.  I’m sure I’ll have more tomorrow after seeing the sawbones tomorrow.

It was an interesting weekend.

So, Friday morning, I get to work within seconds of C. We park in different rows, but make it to the door about at the same time. I notice that her hands are full, so I wait a little longer than I normally would to hold the door for her.
“Wow, you’re wearing jeans for a change. It’s nice to see. You look good in jeans,” she tells me. Now, I’m not vain or concieted, but when I worked at the Front Desk, the black girls all complimented me on my ass. I may not have a lot going for me, but I do know I have a better than average ass for a white boy. I’m pretty sure that’s what she really meant.
“Um, I wear jeans every Friday, C. and have since you worked here.”
“Oh, I guess I never noticed before…”
Well, no shit. Who notices the quiet, polite, professional guy who looks you in the eye not the nipple? Who notices the guy that puts you on the prayer list at church because you’re obviously having trouble with the guy you’re dating and just can’t figure out that you should leave him, be alone and figure out who you really are instead of running from the tragic death of a high-school sweetheart? Apparently, not C. Go figure. Just call me Rodney Skinner. After work, I took my favorite, flirty strawberry-blonde out shopping and for Jack-in-the-Box 99¢ tacos. She might be a bitch, but she’s a cheap date. Hey, I’m talking about Hilda, my dog! C. has artificially enhanced red hair, unless I miss my guess.

So, then Saturday night after church, W. the former mechanic who now works with me and, in fact, is responsible for me having my current job, and K., J.’s former fiance, and I go out to sushi at Koto’s. W. and I have known her for quite awhile and I encouraged him to talk to her via e-mail, because I know she’s been a bit lonely and feeling a little out of the social scene at church. After she and J. broke it off, she got engaged again and that didn’t work out either, though for totally different reasons. She’s a very nice woman who invited me into her home the first Thanksgiving I was alone, the week after the Queen of the Damned left. In any case, they cooked up a dinner out, pre-planned, so that she wouldn’t feel suddenly trapped while everyone else got together and went out.
K. is on the Prayer Team with me at church. Actually, she invited me to join back when she and J. were still together. While we were waiting for everyone else to get together for our group prayer, she and I got pressed into service serving communion, which I had never done at this church before. I swear, when we got up to do it and found our place, J. and L. were staring and whispering about it. It may have been my imagination, but I swear I saw her look right at us then lean over to him and say… Well, something.
After church, we hung around a bit, while W. went and got a table at Koto’s. Apparently he knew the place quite well. Also, he speaks very fluent Japanese, which I’d forgotten. I think he might have been showing off for K., but I’m not sure. Either way, it was great sushi and rock bottom prices and I cannot reccomend it enough. We had a nice dinner, even though I was coughing pretty badly. And, my eyes were bigger than my stomache, so I ended up bringing home a bit of sushi for Hilda. Yes, my amazingly spoiled dog eats sushi, thank you very much!

Sunday, I did nothing and loved it.
This morning, though, W. tells me that K. “likes” me. Now, as a former fiance of perhaps my best friend, she’s automatically off-limits, but I have to admit, I am attracted to her. Still, he’s the second guy who’s seen us interact and said that. I’m starting to wonder if it’s not true. But, I really need it to not be true, and I told him so. His response?
“Well, at least she likes you a lot more than she likes me.”
Oh, God, help me!

Now, for the health update…
Got my chest x-ray this afternoon and got a call from the doctor about 6:00PM. Apparently, the x-ray showed no improvement, or not enough for the imaging center’s liking, so tomorrow morning, after I go see the phlebotomist, so they can check on my anemia, I’ll be off to get a CT scan. Apparently, it’s pretty gruesome.
And, I’m taking this very seriously now, because last night, I listened to a guy share at a men’s support group meeting I attend, about his inoperable cancer. The symptoms that he described going to see the doctor for? The exact same symptoms I ignored for months. Now, I don’t think I have cancer, but I do have a history of it in my family, on both sides, so that scared the shit out of me. No more screwing around, I promise, folks. Uncle Jim is taking it all very, very seriously now. Whatever the doctor says I need to do, I do.

I’ll give you more as I know more.

Advice from your Uncle Jim:
"Man is the only kind of varmint that sets his own trap, baits it, and steps in it."
   --John Steinbeck

Actually, to be more specific, 213 Things Skippy Is No Longer Allowed To Do In The U.S. Army.

I cannot believe I’ve never posted this as a Friday Fun Link. This is a list of 213 things that a soldier was either specifically told he could not do, or that he heard another soldier told that he could not do. And, it’s funny. Every last one of the 213 things is funny. In fact, they get more funny the more you consider them.
Some of my favorites include:
7. Not allowed to add “In accordance with the prophesy” to the end of answers I give to a question an officer asks me.
52. Not allowed to yell “Take that Cobra” at the rifle range.
83. Must not start any SITREP (Situation Report) with “I recently had an experience I just had to write you about….”
179. On Army documents, my race is not “Other”.
203. “To conquer the earth with an army of flying monkeys” is a bad long term goal to give the re-enlistment NCO.

Now, it’s Friday, so why not go read the rest? And follow the links he’s got there to support the troops. They need it now as much as they ever have.
Have a great Friday!

No, not that kind, you perverts!

Just a quick update.
As I head out to the office this morning, eight bags of clothes and shoes are waiting on the front porch for the Salvation Army to come pick them up.  I’m getting down the point now, where it’s just my old junk, her papers and her books to sort through to reclaim the entire first floor of my house.  The upstairs, well, that’s a horse of a different color.  My goal, though, is to get the first floor acceptable enough for a few close friends.  I might even get some advice on colors for the rooms I want to change.  Something warmer, I think.  More welcoming and less sterile than white or off-white.  Don’t know yet, but I definately need to paint a room or two and at least one ceiling.

Tonight, on the way home from work, I’ll be putting a check in the mail that hammers the last nail in the coffin of one of my four credit cards.  One down, three to go.  Sadly, it was the smallest of them to go first, but, considering that I otherwise live pretty much on a cash basis, I think I’m doing fairly well.  One of the guys at work always tells me that I should have stayed married because my debt wouldn’t be so large.  But, as I explain to him, repeatedly, the divorce actually saved me from getting deeper into debt.  My money problems are related to my former marriage, not getting out of it.  So, one by one, I clear my accounts and the books are balanced.
Proof yet again that I can survive anything, somehow.

I know this seems a rather lame post, but all the other posts I’ve started lately either got too heavy too quickly, or got a little too deep into my past.  A past that is, well, just that, past.  I don’t need to get into any details that might put off a future employer or date, especially since none of it was illegal or anything.  A bit immoral, but, hey, even the President seems to be able to slide by on shakey morals these days, no matter what party he’s from.  In any case, I might write them all up one day, but probably not for the blog.

And, now, it’s off to work!