Lucky Number 95

"Any depressive thoughts or any thoughts of harming yourself?"  The nurse asked, systematically. "Uh. well, no. I mean, I guess not, well, except for that time...I mean no. That is actually a loaded question isn't it?"   I chuckled nervously.  The nurse stared back with tired blue, almost gray eyes and without saying a word conveyed just how unamused she was. "No, no I haven't." I tried again.  She begins typing, then types some more.  She is typing much more than the letters n.o. would necessitate. Great.  Now I have issues and it's in my file.  I think to myself.

"The Doctor will be right in, Jessica" the nurse said as she collected her items and briskly walked out the door, closing it behind her. I waited, picking at my nail polish that was chipping off in a few places.  One of the fluorescent lights flickered above the exam table. I stared at the flower painting on the wall next to me.  I appreciated their efforts to make the office comfortable as my lips formed into a half smile.  I wonder where they purchase these pictures?  I thought.  Is there a job out there that specifically sells art to Doctors offices?  I wonder what that pays, my mind continued a bit longer.  I knew why I was here. Cancer. Or at the moment, suspected cancer. I got the call last night from a nurse saying I needed to come in the next day to speak with the doctor. I never asked any questions but instead just thanked her and hung up the phone. I knew.  Considering that they had told me at my last appointment that no news was good news, I knew.

Four weeks ago I went in for my yearly physical. It was your run of the mill physical. My doctor conducting the routine tests. "Open wide...aaaah, take a deep breath. Again. Okay, breathe normal" he said one by one manipulating all his medical instruments with the precision and ease of someone who has done this many a time before.  Then he wrapped his hands around my neck and said, "Swallow. Huh, Swallow again. Interesting, swallow one more time for me." He instructed.  "Well, there is a lump on your Thyroid." He said. "My what?" I replied. "Your Thyroid.  That little butterfly gland located at the front of your neck" he answered. I nodded as if I understood at the same time brushing my hand across the front of my neck to feel for myself.  "Don't worry" he assured me. "95% of the time they are benign but you will need to have a neck ultrasound to make sure.

The next week at my neck ultrasound, I was told it was over 1 cm so I would need to have a fine needle aspiration.  The ultrasound technician, very happy to give me the same promising news as the doctor the week before, said "this is really nothing to worry about, 95% of these are totally benign." So I have heard. I thought to myself.

The next week at my Fine needle aspiration, as the ENT placed a foot long needle into my neck, he said, "don't worry, it's nothing. Only 5% of these end up being cancer so that means..." "95% are benign" I interrupted, with a smirk. He gave me an approving nod.

Today, I was waiting for my doctor to give me the findings.  My doctor entered swiftly and sat down in front of me on the seemingly strategically placed chair.  Maybe it's the cancer chair.  I thought to myself.  I tried to remember if the nurse had specifically moved it to that position before she left the room.  The flickering light caught the Doctor's eye. "Well, it's cancer." He stated confidently, still checking out the light above. Then silence for a moment as he waited for me to take it all in.  I'm hungry.  I thought to myself. Ooh, maybe I should get Panera.  "Jessica, did you hear me?"  The doctor said, bringing me back from my thoughts.  "Yes" I replied.  "So, I guess I wasn't one of the 95% benign?" I questioned with a slight undertone of sarcasm.  "I know this can be tough to hear but this Cancer won't kill you. It has 95% survival rate." He assured confidently, now looking me in the eye. Great.  I thought. My lucky number.