Incidental Finding

I'll admit, I'm a bit anxious right now; anxious to get the CAT scan over with, and anxious to hear what it finds.

Wait, that's not the beginning.

On Saturday, September 24, 2011, I injured myself. It was during the final open water session of my PADI Rescue Diver class and I was acting as a victim for one of my classmates, who was carrying me up the beach on his back. I breathed at just the wrong time, coinciding with my rescuer's step, and I felt a 'pop' in my ribs, accompanied by some meaningful pain.

The pain subsided, I finished my rescues without too much trouble, and all was well (or so I thought).

Within a few days the pain had diminished but not vanished. My students extracted a promise from me that if it hadn't got better by Monday (October 3, 2011), I'd get it checked out; they repeated to me what I've frequently said to them: "Take care of yourself! You're no good to anyone if you're unhealthy!"

Fast forward to yesterday. I got up, got ready for school, and by the time I arrived was in significant pain. Dammit... So I arranged for a sub and went to Urgent Care to keep my promise.

Doctor thought it was quite likely costochondritis, an inflammation of the ribs' junction to the sternum, but ordered x-rays to rule out rib fracture. No problem... until the doctor came in and told me that there was no fracture, but...

But... there was an "incidental finding."

It's an innocuous phrase, but my blood ran cold. An "incidental finding" on an x-ray of the chest region for someone whose dad died of lung cancer not quite 3 years ago is perhaps-understandably frightening. I controlled myself and paid attention as the doctor continued.

She described the "incidental finding" as a "nodule" in the region immediately above the injury site, and probably unrelated. She told me that she wanted to refer me for a CAT scan. What can a person say to such a thing? I said, "Okay."

I'm trying to keep my head about this—I'm aware that the odds are good that it's nothing to be concerned about—but sometimes fear gets ahold of me and I think about the years I smoked, or my exposure to asbestos when I was in the Navy, or the prevalence of cancer in my family. I know I'm a bit of a hypochondriac so I dismiss the worst of my fears as probably unfounded, but "probably" isn't the same as "certainly," and I can't say that they're certainly unfounded.

At any rate, the CAT scan is scheduled for Monday afternoon, and it shouldn't be too long after that that I'll know.

But in the meantime, I am anxious.

Funny thing, though; as I was thinking about writing this 'blog, I thought of a different kind of "incidental finding," one that would be just as disruptive as this one could be, but much more welcome.

People say that when you stop looking for love, that's when it finds you; love happens while you're looking for something else. Love is (or often is) an "incidental finding." You're looking for something else, you're doing something else, and WHAM; love.

It's strangely comforting, thinking of love in the same terms as whatever this damn thing in my chest is. Maybe it's good news.