So, finally, here I am in the waiting room of the Ear, Nose and Throat Doctor. I have been waiting for this appointment for 10 weeks! I have a lump in my face, somewhere around where my gums, my bicuspids and sinus cavity all get connected together and about 3

months ago, they all started a war and the right side of my mouth became the battlefield. After a series of two antibiotics, sinus x-rays, a trip to the Mengele Dental Clinic, and enough nasal spray to keep a herd of elephants breathin’ free and easy for a lifetime, I was referred to an otolaryngologist, or an “ENT” (for those of us who are over the age of 35.) That was in February. Since that time I have convinced myself that I have metastatic melanoma and that the entire right side of my face will have to be removed, that the rest of my short life will be spent undergoing radiation, chemotherapy, facial reconstruction, all of which will be repeated over and over again until I finally succumb to the jaws (pun intended) of death, way before my prime (which some people already believe occurred many years ago).

All kidding aside, I was really pretty scared, because a dear friend of mine had the same symptoms and was told he had a polyp in his sinus. When they went in to remove it, they did find metastatic lymphoma and 11 months later, we buried him. He was 42 years old, full of all the glory life can hold, and his death still burns every time I think about him. That was part of my concern. The other part, however, was a direct link to the word “drugs.” As an addict, my mind automatically goes to that word whenever any remote connection can be made to anything mind altering. The obsession to use drugs has been removed by the grace of God, but my brain still goes on automatic pilot for a second when a word like “Vicodin” or “Morphine” connects to my auditory receptors. I automatically visualize the orange plastic vial, the white label and the child proof cap, sitting in a cabinet whispering my name. “Ginger….Pssssst……We’re over here…….C’mon……..Just a couple…..you know, a little buzz…….doesn’t even count as a relapse.” The voices are still there and even though they aren’t bothering me right now, I know that in a heartbeat my disease can kick in and its sweet hiss could blot out any voice of reason or recovery. It happened 16 months ago when I relapsed, and it can happen again if I’m not on my game.

After a thorough examination, the doctor told me that I had a double deviated septum and really narrow sinus cavities, but that the growth was an alveolar root cyst (whatever the hell that is), which was a benign condition, but that I had to have it removed by an oral surgeon. So, I’m not going to die of cancer, but I’m still going to have to have surgery and that means pain killers. What will I do? I’m not sure right now. The only thing I do know is that I’m stickin’ close to those who know what I’ll be going through and make sure they’re holding on tight.

Till Next Time -

Your Humble Road Warrior