Good day,
Life has been lifing. While I’ve been doing my absolute best here, this 39 year old body has plans of its own.
Back in June, I was out of town on a work trip in Alabama, having a truly hospitable southern experience, when Monday night, I noticed a small red dot under my left arm pit. I’ve never had any underarm issues in the past, so this was brand new for me.
The next morning, it seemed to be swelling, close to the size of an olive, but nothing remarkable. That evening, when I got back to the hotel and took a look, it was swollen, and slightly irritated and about the size of a kumquat.
The next morning, Wednesday, it was hurting, had doubled in size, and had expanded into something the shape of an oblong Magnalite pot, little wing handles, and all. All day, while working, I winced every time I’d have to let my arm down because it would put pressure on this massive lump.
When I got back to the hotel, it was in my best interest to head to the UrgentCare in Auburn, Alabama and try to explain this ridiculous story: A random, painful, unexplainable lump has appeared under my left arm, and I need someone to attempt to convince me that I’m not dying. It turned out she labeled it cellulitis, and prescribed Bactrim and OTC fever reducer.
I started the meds and that night, I woke up multiple times covered completely in sweat, literally head to toe, so obviously this was a bit more serious than what the my internet research was calling something that can go away on it’s own.
I flew home to DFW on Thursday morning and made an appointment for Friday with my regular doctor. Look, the lump had increased in size. Thursday night, it fit in the palm of my hand, something close to the size of a half avocado, and the pain was truly unbearable. I knew since it was growing, the infection was causing my body to attack it, so the growth was both good and bad.
Friday morning, I pulled myself together to make my doctor appointment. I love my doctor, but she has the worst poker face. When I lifted my arm to reveal the lump, I saw on her face, “This is way worse than I was expecting.” She examined it, and relayed the message, “I don’t have what you’ll need to make this better. It needs IV antibiotics that you can only get at an Emergency Room.”
Let’s break this down. I live in Frisco, alone. All my family and friends are splashed around Louisiana, so I don’t really have anyone to “take me to the ER.” I promptly engaged the Tyler Superqueen energy, put the Emergency Room address into my Apple Maps, and slid on my favorite sunglasses to cover the tears.
I arrived at the West Plano Emergency Room, and had to deliver the, “My doctor told me to come to the emergency room to get IV antibiotics” message. The receptionist looked at me perplexed, and handed me the clipboard of unnecessarily long admitting paperwork. I’d love a digital input option, like an iPad or something electronic. but I digress. The receptionist was lovely, and I remember her saying, “you backed into your parking spot right next to me, I thought that was cool.” :)
They took me back and that’s where the magical experience started. I had two nurses dedicated to my care, and the doctor eventually came in. The nurses really set my heart at ease and assured me that I was in great hands, and they would figure out the best plan of action. One was a sweet little lady with Cajun roots, and I immediately felt her Cajun comforting energy. She took away most of the initial anxiety just by saying, “I’ll be here with you the whole time, so you’re safe.”
I lifted my arm, and they began to inspect this lump. It was confirmed that it was cellulitis, but there was the problem of this giant lump being so close to lymph nodes, so they couldn’t just jab a scalpel into it to drain it.
But FIRST, they wanted to take an HIV test before getting anything started. For any of you sexually active people reading this, if you’ve ever had an HIV test, it’s the longest 10 minutes of your life. So many thoughts go through your mind: of all the partners you’ve had since your last test and if it comes back positive, which one was the one who gave it to you? and how were you so stupid? and that last hookup was the last! and praying to the God you don’t always believe in that it comes back negative, like every other time in the past because you’re a safe sex person and you can trust your partners and yourself.
The test came back negative, like expected, and the treatment began. The doctor drew a sharpie line around it to denote its size and shape and to be able to monitor any growth or shrinkage. A lovely side effect of the lump placement was that the whole time I had my arm up, I’d unintentionally huff Sharpie fumes. They started the first bag of IV antibiotics, and once that bag was empty, it was time to take a CT scan to investigate if the lump was affecting my lymph nodes.
I’ve never had a CT scan before. Let’s talk about the dye. She informed me that I’d feel like I needed to or was actively peeing myself, and if I’ve ever had hemorrhoids, it would make them hot. I was not prepared for how hot my bootyhole got in that moment!
Once the CT scan was finished, they hooked me up to the second bag of IV antibiotics that would take two hours to fully run through. Because I was there so long, the lovely staff asked what I’d like for lunch and let me pick the place. The food was delivered while the second IV bag was running, so I had lunch, then passed out, and the IV machine ringing once the bad was empty was the alarm that woke me up. I pressed the nurse button and the doctor eventually came in to reveal that the lump was too close to a lymph node, so they would not be able to stab it to drain it.
A fun fact of this wonderful doctor was her name. I won’t give the name away, but I will say that her name is the same as a talk show host, who was recently released from a conservatorship, and who’s name rhymes with bendy billiams. How you doin?
I was sent home with the painful, hot lump, but filled with two bags of the most infection fighting antibiotics allowed in one day and a prescription for another antibiotic on top of the bactrim. I arrived home, and napped something similar to the propofol nap when you get a colonoscopy.
Saturday was unpleasant, to say the least. In the morning, I noticed the lump was sort of making a head near the initial red spot, where this whole journey began. My family strongly believes in the healing power of the hot compress, so consistently, I kept the towel refreshed with hot water.
In the late afternoon, while I was lying in bed, I slid my hand under my arm, and realized the draining had begun. OH. MY. GOD.
I hadn’t really considered how this journey would eventually have to play out. I don’t know if my traumatized psyche had protected me from the idea that all the swelling was actually antibodies built up under my skin, and that they weren’t going anywhere but OUT, but it started and it hurt.
I can’t even fathom how pissed off the lump must have been for it to build up a volcanic tip, with CCs of molten infection fighting lava below the surface. For days, I had to monitor the lumpcano while it slowly drained, and scheduled a follow up appointment for Wednesday morning to check in with my doctor. That was the final day of draining, and I finally got my life back. I kept taking the prescribed antibiotics, and it went down to a fourth of the size.
There’s still no way to know what originally caused this lump, but the experience was eye opening and painful af!
The moral of the story is, don’t pretend like big things are small things that don’t need to be addressed. The thought passed through my mind multiple times that ‘this isn’t that big of a deal,’ but I had to remember: WWJD?
<3
