The Bump on My Tongue

I will be the first to admit that I over-worry about the smallest things sometimes. However, eventually one of my worries has to come true.

Around the beginning of the year, I noticed a small sore on the underside of my tongue. It looked and felt like a canker sore and it stuck around for a couple weeks. The sore eventually healed over, but then I felt a small pea-sized lump in my tongue. I told Bethany that I was very worried about this lump. God bless Bethany as she is the stabilizer fins to my rocking cruise ship. Like so many things I have worried about in the past, she calmed me down and told me that it's probably nothing. She reminded me of all those other times when I worried about something that eventually went away. "This will go away, too," she said.

Well, it did... for a few days. Then it came back. Then it started growing. It went from the size of a pea to a Gobstopper, and then from the size of a Gobstopper to the size and shape of a large almond. It stayed like that for a couple months. I researched my symptoms quite a bit online only to scare myself half to death. It was difficult to find people who described their tongue bumps the exact same way as mine, but the things I was reading were not good. Pretty much all of them said that they had to have it removed. A couple comments used the c-word (not the swearing one). Bethany told me to see a doctor if I was really worried, so I scheduled an appointment.

My primary care physician took one brief look at the thing, said he didn't know what it was, and referred me to the ear, nose, and throat (otolaryngology) department. This was expected as it seemed to also happen to the people who shared their stories online. My experience with my otolaryngologist was not the most encouraging. She took a look at it with a flashlight and poked it a couple times with a tongue depressor. She looked at it with a puzzled face and asked, "What is that?" She poked it a couple more times and said again, "What IS that?" It was clear that she had never seen anything like it and that I was going to die.

Alright, I wasn't going to die, but the fact that this doctor with plenty of experience didn't know what this was did not make me feel any better. She explained to me a few different things it could be. A blocked duct building up fluid, an internally damaged lesion, or, yes, a cancerous tumor. She said that no matter what, some or part of it needed to be cut out. I could either come into the office on another day, have half of the bump cut off in the patient room, and have it tested. In which case, if the test came out bad, I would have to schedule a surgery to have the rest removed. Or, I could just schedule the surgery and have it all removed at once. These choices were given to me two weeks before my big Japan trip in April, so it wasn't exactly easy to make a decision.

I asked the doctor what could happen if I waited to do anything until after my vacation. She said that there were a number of complications that could happen. I seem to remember one of those being that my tongue lesion could burst. However, she said that since nothing major has changed with it for a couple months, that I should be okay. I made the choice to schedule the full surgery for after I got back from Japan.

Let me reiterate from my last Japan post about how bittersweet it was to fly back home from Japan after my eight days of vacation there. I wanted to see my family, but I didn't want to have surgery. I had never had surgery before. Heck, I've never been put to sleep before; not even for getting my wisdom teeth out.

Preparing for the operation was a sinch and the surgery itself was awesome. I love being put to sleep, and the next thing I know, waking up and it's all over. That's when the not-so-fun part occurs: Recovery. The nurse offered me some pain meds as soon as I woke up and I was all, like, "Nah, it's not so bad." Then the pain got worse really, really fast and shortly after, I said, "On second thought..." Keep in mind, I was talking with a numb tongue and cotton in my mouth, so it really sounded like, "Ugh, ee oh uhh aaah. Ooh nehh duh."

I took two days off of work to recover. It was not fun. My mouth was in shock, my energy was drained as if I had the flu, and the pain meds were blocking me up. I have never experienced constipation before in my entire life, but I can tell you first hand that it can literally bring a grown man down to their knees. I know, probably too much information, but just want to make sure you knew that it was miserable.

I went back to work still not being able to speak clearly. I sounded like that one kid on A Christmas Story with his tongue stuck to the frozen pole. This lasted for about another week and a half. Then I had my initial post-surgical visit with my otolaryngologist to have her check me out and tell me the results of the test.

First, the good news. They tested two big chunks that they took out of my tongue and both were benign. The bad news was that one of the chunks included a major nerve and now I am going to be numb on the right side of my tongue forever. Anyone who knows me knows that I hate the dentist with a passion. It's not so much the cleaning, or the rare case that I need a filling, but the foreign feeling you have with your mouth right after you have those things done. I hate when something in my mouth changes. This is a big change and I can feel it all the time.

I know that I shouldn't be complaining about a numb tongue because I've read stories where the results have been so much worse. Having a partial numb tongue is just annoying. It might sometimes feel itchy and I'll scratch the surface a bunch on the sharp points of my teeth to no relief. Whenever I get food stuck between my teeth on the right side of my mouth, forget about digging it out with my tongue. It's impossible.

So, knowing what I know now, would I have done anything differently? I would have loved to, but I don't think any alternative action would have created a different outcome. Eventually, the doctor would notice the chunk with my major nerve in it and have to take it out. I guess just know the risks and understand that this could happen to you. It could be worse, but it could also be better.