Month: March 2016

I’ve recently been obsessed with Led Zeppelin.  I mean, I’ve always been obsessed with Led Zeppelin since I started listening to rock music in middle school (Thank you brother for introducing me to Rush).  But I go through phases and I’m on a Zeppelin kick.

Today is March 22nd.  I’m waiting to have an excisional biopsy procedure done, i.e. cutting out 2 lymph nodes.  We already pretty much know what this thing in my neck is, we just need to know the sub-type.  I’ll be heavily drugged up so it’s not like I’m going to feel anything.

So here I am in my gown in a freezing hospital room.  The nurse was nice enough to throw a warm blanket on my feet.  And so I wait.  Listening to Zeppelin on Spotify, in shuffle mode mind you.

A quick aside: I am not a superstitious person at all.  I don’t engage in any weird patterned activities or wear lucky boxers before KU games (sorry, it’s March Madness time.  We’ve got a date with Villanova in the Elite 8.  Spoiler alert – we lose).  I like to think I subscribe to reason and logic.  Others may disagree

The first song that plays on shuffle, “In my Time of Dying.”  Well that’s just ironic as hell.  I listen to it in its entirety.  Next song: “Stairway to Heaven.”  Hahahahaha.  Next song, “When the Levee Breaks.”  At this moment, I’m particularly intrigued.  I have to share this with my cousin Ankoor, the most classic rock-obsessed fellow I know.  He responds, “man, next is gonna be Achilles Last Stand.” “Ankoor, that’s what I’m listening to now!”  I was actually thrilled to get to this song.  I’m particularly obsessed with it at the moment.  It’s a 10-minute non-stop high and it gets me energized for the things about to happen.

Glad I’m not superstitious.

“ok, so I have some swelling in my neck. probably just too many drinks the previous night (Friday). damn, maybe not. ok I’ll get it checked out on Monday morning.” That’s precisely how my week unfolded. A weekend of bar-hopping with buddies from out-of-town, to a Sunday of unease and uncertainly to a full week of doctor-hopping. “It’s likely just a virus” says my primary doctor.  “We’ll still need to do a CT scan though.”  Then the phone call from a family friend who’s lap my scan fell into: “I’ve never seen anything this large that wasn’t lymphoma.” Wow.  This was all on Monday.

But that’s not even the day I’m referring to. There was still hope that it wasn’t that thing. I mean, it was just an image. Not a biopsy, not actual cells. Just an image. So on I went to the ENT the next day. I didn’t even understand how an ENT fits in this scenario. I’ve got a lump in my neck, not a sore throat. But I blindly move forward and have a needle stuck in me to suck out some cellular stuff. At the same time, given that I’m Indian and I have no shortage of family and friends that are doctors, my cousin, Nirav takes it upon himself to have his oncologist friend reach out to me. Before I know it, I’m talked into an appointment on Thursday.

Thursday, March 17th – that was the day. When my oncologists words fell on me like a pile of bricks and brought a certain closure to the week of uncertainty. He confirmed that this was cancer, lymphoma to be exact. As macho as I want to act on the outside, there was nothing I could do to quell the tears already forming. It was a harsh reality that’s just impossible to prepare for. With the doctor right in front of me, I can’t help but ask myself the next set of questions: “what are my chances?”  “what if I don’t make it?” What happens to my family?”