Yup. That's still the title of the 9/11 novel I'm writing. Yup. It's finished. I'm editing it. And, yup, I've used complete sentences and good grammar and all. That's not what this post is about. It's one of those health updates that I dread doing.
There's this lump. Since I don't do anything in a normal way, it's not in a breast or anywhere they usually pop up. It's between my shoulder and elbow, on my left arm. It's now the size of a hard boiled egg, and it hurts like the bee-jeezies. At first I imagined I'd been knitting too much getting ready for Plowshares, and how could I go to my good doctor and say I'd sprained a muscle from knitting too much? My doc is very patient with me, but he also has no problem laughing at me either. He didn't laugh when he felt this lump. He poked and prodded and said something about "tentacles" (I'm sure he didn't say "testicles") and scheduled an MRI.
MRI is Tuesday.
I'll keep you posted.