My hands are often cold. I suspect it is for that reason that my hands are often tucked away somewhere – tucked under my legs when sitting, in pockets, tucked under my chin, curled into fists, or clutched together. It was cold fingers that set me on a course reset for this life journey.   Cold fingers, seeking warmth, found a bump in my neck. It was Thanksgiving. We were playing cards with family and a friend. We all decided it was probably a swollen lymph node; that’s how the body heals itself after all.
The short version (and there’s never a short version with me) goes like this:

1. Lymph node doesn’t go away, see the ENT.
2. ENT says it’s not a lymph node, it’s a salivary gland and probably a stone (like a kidney stone)
3. CT scan says it’s not a stone, it’s a mass in the salivary gland, but we need a biopsy to figure out what it is.
4. Biopsy says.. I dunno what it is.
5. ENT removes gland, pathologist says.. I dunno what it is, either.
6. The next Pathology lab says, hmmm, I think it’s this bad thing but, dang, that would be weird, so we’re asking for another opinion to check our results.

And here we are.
At the present time, while waiting for an expert in Boston to help us all come to a conclusion, there are several things going on in Casa di Gina and Kathy. They include:

• Surgery recovery. My left submandibular gland was removed. Two weeks post-surgery, the incision is healing nicely. There is some numbness on the lower, left side of my face and neck (like you might have after Novocaine from the dentist’s office), a small bit of swelling isn’t too noticeable, and just minor pain for which I don’t even bother with the tylenol. It truly feels like a post-dental procedure; not bad. I’m working, I’m driving, and I’m walking more each day (6,000 steps yesterday!). My limitations are flexibility and strength in my neck, which means I can’t sleep with my face smushed into a pillow and I’m probably not going to win any weight-lifting challenges any time soon. Um, not that I would have before this.
• Scans.  We need to do some additional tests to make sure that there’s nothing cancerous in the rest of my body. What I have scheduled is not painful and, surprising to me, are not really causing me much anxiety. The greatest pain with the scan ahead of me is that I’ve been asked to limit caffeine. At the time of this writing, I’m looking at 24 hours with no caffeine. I can roll with this, but I think it’s safe to say that I’ll file this little tidbit of torture away until I can determine how best to make the rule-makers pay.
• Treatment plans. The oncologist is meeting with his oncologist friends and assorted experts that have knowledge of such treatments in order to develop the best course of treatment for what they currently think I have. It’s rare. It’s rare for my age. And, it’s rare for the way/location it presented. So, no, I’m not telling until we know for sure. I will not feed your Google habit (or mine). Treatment, based on what we know now, will take some time and will likely include whatever oncology-related treatment you first thought of. Yes, that one. And, yes, that one, too. But we don’t know for sure, so we are…
• Waiting.  Waiting is happening at an exponential rate. We need my neck to continue to heal from surgery. We need to allow the experts to conduct a careful examination of the test results. We need the next scan results before they can do that. More, we want a thoughtfully (and not rushed) prepared plan of action to kick the ass of whatever it is/was that had the audacity take up residence in my neck. When we have that plan, there will be…
• Planning.  Because, this is me. I plan. It’s what I do. There are commitments and responsibilities and camping and graduations and birthdays and things that I am planning around. We’ll deal with all that when we have information available to deal with all that.
• Life.  Yes, life is happening. I am looking forward to a long weekend in Las Vegas with my sisters in two weeks. I am working, preparing for a meeting, watching basketball games, avoiding the laundry, and all the other things that happen for us every day. Life is life.

I, and likely Kathy too, will use this space to share what’s happening. Honestly, it’s easier. It’s easier to put all in one place than to remember who we told what or to repeat it in multiple phone calls. I’m not a rock star, so I’m not terribly worried about a blog about my craft projects and an illness exposing me. I just really hope to have a record someday. Back when I had my Thyroid adventure in 2009, I would write an email update and send it to friends and family. I no longer have those emails. I am sure they were brilliant and funny (only because there’s no evidence left to prove otherwise), and I wish I had them still. So, I’m hoping to preserve some of this for the future; so I can remember how far I’ve traveled.
In the meantime, my hands are still cold, but my heart is warmed. What 2015 has shown me so clearly is that I am surrounded by love, and love fits me like a glove.