When I lived in Orlando after college, they had an annual parade call the Queen Kumquat Parade. It was the brainchild of a local newspaper columnist. Sort of an alternative to the big, commercial parades. The Queen Kumquat Parade welcomed entries of the sort that wouldn’t get into other parades. For example, two guys in suits labeled as “business” and “government” who carried briefcases and randomly during the route, stopped, opened their briefcases and exchanged cash. There were also floats from local community groups, clubs, political statements, social statements, religious statements, and I remember a drag queen as the Grand Marshall one year. Where traditional parades threw candy to the parade watchers, at this one, they threw kumquats.
The kumquat, for those that haven’t experienced them, are tiny citrus fruits. Oval or round. A couple centimeters, maybe. Not as tasty as other citrus fruits, in my opinion. And not soft. That is, you don’t want to get beaned in the head by one. What in the world, you might wonder, makes me remember a parade in which kumquats were thrown toward the bystanders?
After finding a lump in my neck in November, I had a CT scan just before Christmas. At a doctor appointment in early January, we found out there was a mass of some sort in my left submandibular salivary gland. “A mass.”
No one had said “tumor” yet. It’s a scary word. The first time I said tumor in regard to my neck, I was in a fitting room trying on a new dress and skirt I now own in preparation for Spring. I was adjusting something on my shoulder, my hand slipped, and I popped myself in the neck. “I hit myself in the tumor.” Now I had a problem. Not only did I need to find some taupe sandals for Spring, I had an internal loop in my head with the Arnold dialogue from Kindergarten Cop, “It’s not a toomah.” (http://youtu.be/OaTO8_KNcuo) Not to mention, I figured that soon we would have to tell people about it.
It was 2.7 centimeters long. My tendency is to want a comparison to fill in the blank, “It’s about the size of a ______.” Golf ball? No, too big. Marble? No, too small. What’s in between? Because the universe is funny, I was watching TV and a character mentioned kumquats. A kumquat. Yep, it was about the size of a kumquat.
While you are dealing with the waiting and determinations of what happens next when you have a thing in a gland in your neck, you try to just not think of it, but it creeps up. You’re in a meeting or grocery shopping and all of a sudden, you think of it. You realize life is happening and progressing while you are focused on this…thing. At random times it just becomes so vividly present and you’re a little miffed that things are going on when you feel stuck in the waiting for next steps. Suddenly you want to shout out to everyone nearby, “There’s a kumquat in my neck!” Which would, of course, be crazy. Then you imagine doing it. What it would look like or sound like to others. You imagine the confused/concerned/sympathetic look of strangers who are wondering if they should call the police…or a medic… then you know. It would be hysterical! To me. Only to me. Well, maybe to the parade participants in Orlando, too.
I understand that the Queen Kumquat Parade in Orlando is no more. While my own kumquat (and the gland it rode in on) are also gone now, we are still cleaning up after the revelers. A messy bunch, we’ll be at it a while.