My Lung Lump Biopsy (a sample of my lung and a sample of my blogging soul)

Based on the fact that I am writing this in the hospital after the biopsy, I can now say my lung lump is not a gateway to another dimension, ready to release netherworld mammals.  I can also say that spending time in a hospital is great for perspective on the reasons why we blog.

The “Procedure”

My day was fairly uneventful, with the exception of daytime TV in the waiting area (David Hasselhoff sang as a guest on Operah *shudder*).  The procedure started with me face down on the scanning bed with the nurse telling me not to move, placing a sheet over my head.  She said the sheet was to keep the area clean.  I figured it was either because the doctor was horribly disfigured or for efficiency in case I did not make it out of the procedure alive (my wife says it in no way is an “operation”, that a “procedure” is one small step up from a “process”).

When the doctor did come in and spoke to me, I stereotyped him based on voice alone as a superman / captain marvel figure.  He turned out to be a short Indian fellow.  So much for my linguistics career.

They had to wait for about 15 minutes for another doctor, during which Indian Superman discussed what sounded like his latest performance review with a nurse.  He commented that he was told to slow down and take his time, to which I hoped he took constructive criticism well.  That he felt to speak so freely also made me think that perhaps all the military needs for its spies are medical sheets to pull over the spies heads.  It was though I was not in the room at all.

Apart from the pain of the anesthetic, there was not much discomfort.  Unfortunately, they could not see the brave face I put on, only judging by my scardey-pants pulse jumping at every twitch and tug of the needle in my lung.  They kept asking if I was all right.  Reticent to clearly articulate through the pillow in my mouth some smart quip about being hunky-dory apart from the needle in my lung, I managed a panicked grunt that somehow sounded affirmative.

In my hospital gown with my boxered-butt and sky-rocketing pulse-rate hanging out for all to see, I thought what a great place hospitals can be.  No presumptions, no masks, it is one of the few places where we are shown for what we are.  During my stay, I saw two handcuffed patients escorted by police.  If only our physical exposure could extend to emotional disclosure.  If only the x-rays could expose the issues with the soul to fix more than broken bones.

Reason for the blog

I have had some ask why I am laying my lung lump out on my blog for all to see.  My response: To maintain perspective in this social marketing experiment; and to perhaps help some empathize with others as well as prepare if similar events occur to them.

The lump is likely benign, and the whole event could have passed without notice.  Before I was made aware of the lump, I could have gone my whole life giving only passing thought to those going through similar situations.  Our natural societal response appears to be to privately stand up through what ails us.

Yet we are also in an atmosphere of full exposure through the phenomena of “social media”.  These two concepts present conflict.  If I truly wish to engage in mass communication mediums, there must be an aspect of mature transparency.  To do otherwise would promote the false sense of self so prevalent in online communities, a personae that creates the disconnect people feel when engaging socially one-on-one after relating online for so long.  That said, if it was a testicular lump, there may not have been pictures.

An aspect of our learning patterns is that we only attribute meaning on reflection.  As a result of this event, I now have better appreciation for those whose prognosis is not so positive.  I feel a greater part of a community in both my work and personal life who shared with me in the brief blip of a journey.  And while I can only affect the small sphere who engage with this blog, as a mid-range Gen X’er, I am aware that my friends and peers will start finding lumps and bumps in their entropic bodies.  Hopefully, my discourse will open the door to sharing on their side and a previously missing element of empathy and deeper compassion on mine.