Will the Real Lump Please Stand Up?

They say life begins at fifty. My biological motto is 'hit fifty and crap out.' My body is a multiple choice of failure .

I had a complete physical exam yesterday. The good news was my cholesterol had lowered into a normal range. However, my liver is under protest from the very meds that keep my arteries healthy. Hmmmmm. What to do, what to do...

Physical homeostasis has been a battle that has left me defeated on many occasions. Maintenance doesn't factor into it anymore. You must attain something before you can claim it.

Thyroid tantrums continue to plague me. The fine-tuning required reminds me of of the old radio knobs of days past. Large, ugly, unwieldy and nearly impossible to tune into the station of choice. Turn it the wrong way and static ensues, voices fading or booming. Turn it a little more to the left, no, the right, back in the middle.... this bed is too soft, this bed is too hard... AAAAAAACCCCCCK!

My deliquent gland needs serious behaviour modification. It's a delicate balance; a ballet of hormones. Too little and I crash from shiny toe-shoes onto my face. Too much and the ballet lurches from graceful to frantic - Dame Margot Fonteyn to Frankenstein. It's a guessing game. The doctor prescribed a dose of medication, we wait and hope for the best. I sit at home anticipating total system failure or prepare for lift-off. It's enough to drive anyone squirrely.

As if all of the above is not enough to raise my blood pressure- which by the way, receives a passing grade - I was ordered to undergo an ECG to monitor my heart rhythm. My heart rate is the only speedy attribute I possess. I surely don't want to become any sicker, especially when it concerns my ticker.

Enter the phantom lumps. I'm told by my doctor that I have 2 unauthorized lumps. I'm told by another doctor they are no where to be felt. Who do I believe? They can't both be right. To feel or not to feel? For now, I call upon the calvary in the form of a specialist, whom I shall see in a few weeks time. Hopefully, the mystery of the disappearing lumps will be solved once and for all. What shall I do? I think this is a case for Nancy Drew.