My Skinny Neck

By this point in our saga, dear Reader, Deb and I have visited Dr. Chuma (my E/N/T guy and lead doctor in my healing journey) 5 or 6 times. And that's not counting our two dates in the Operating Room. And on every occasion I have come to like him, admire him, and trust him even more.

And on every single visit, (except the two in the Operating Room), he has mentioned my skinny neck. Mentioned it with admiration and appreciation. (Truth be told, I was a little concerned about getting "old man's turkey neck" syndrome, but read on!)

Originally, I thought he was simply pointing out how much easier it is to operate on a neck that is not layered in... umm, how to put this politely... layered in excess tissue.

In other words, I thought he was saying that my skinny neck made it easier for him to find what he was looking for as a surgeon and to work around areas containing nerves, large blood vessels, and other critical features that he needed to stay away from. All of which is a good thing.

But during today's visit (which I will blog about this evening), an even more crucial element in my well-being came to light. Something I had missed:

Twoards the end of our visit, I extolled the virtues once again of Dr. Johnson, the wonderful GP who first noticed the bump on the side of my neck and decided to pay attention to it. Without her alertness, I might still have that original bump and, thinking that it was likely a cyst or something else benign, told myself for weeks or months that I really ought to get that looked at some day. Which would mean that none of this discovery process would even have started.

At the end of my little speech about Dr. Johnson, Dr. Chuma said, in effect, "What allowed her to find and be concerned about that bump was the fact that your neck is skinny. Hidden inside a heavier neck, that bump might not have been noticed even by her."

Geez. The things you wind up being deeply grateful for...