Funny seeing you again!

I left the doctor's office and drove to the Kona Grill restaurant to meet friends from the company where I had been ensconced just five months prior. I'd been looking forward to this night. Cocktails and hors d'oeuvre with a great group of women was a definite mood lifter.

These ladies weren't just former co-workers. Over the years, we had traveled together to trade shows; enjoyed a long weekend together in Florida; and three of us -- Laurel, Helen and me -- had even toured Rome together while attending Helen's daughter's wedding there. And even with my 12 years of employment, I was the least tenured among this group. Laurel recently earned her 25-year gold watch, and the others will be adding to their watch collection in the next few years. This team has borne witness to all of life's milestones together -- weddings, divorces, birth of children, death of parents, death of siblings, illnesses. Friendships were forged that wouldn't be shattered by a little thing like one of us, namely me, leaving the company.

We have girls' nights on a regular basis and this was one of those occasions, my first since the surgery. But as I crossed the parking lot, I felt that chill grab me again and a sudden sense of fatigue. Rather than a cocktail, I was ready for cozy PJs and a warm bed. I hung in for a couple of hours and had my usual good time, but the fact that both my head and my eyes hurt added up to one thing. I had a fever.

As soon as I got home, I went right to bed. In the morning, I felt okay and went to work, but by noon, I was hot, then cold, and completely out of steam. I went home and waited for a sore throat and runny nose to arrive. Surely they'd be there any minute. But they never arrived. No cold symptoms. No upset stomach. Just the fever. By Friday morning, when the fever hit 103° and I still had no other symptoms, it suddenly dawned on me. I didn't have the flu. I had an infection.

I looked at the incision areas and wasn't surprised to see that the lymph node incision was flaming red and the redness was spreading. I called the surgeon's office and asked to speak to the nurse. She asked me if the incision was warm to the touch. Don't know. Let's see. I felt the site and sure enough, it was hot. I could have baked a potato on it.

The surgeon was doing what surgeons do -- surgering (all right, operating, but I like the sound of surgering). The nurse said she would page him and have him call me. And he did.

Thus, two days after telling me he'd see me in six months, I was back in his examining room. He aspirated the fluid build-up and was pleased to see it was clear, meaning the infection was topical and not internal. I started on antibiotics and by Saturday, the bump was gone, the fever was gone, the headache was gone and all was right with the world again.