Usually, when I have a health concern, I keep it to myself because other people’s fears are disproportionate to the situation. Yesterday, I really had nothing else to blog about, so I’m sorry if anyone was worried. I consider a lump, just that. A lump. It doesn’t automatically translate to cancer. It just calls for investigation. I have set the wheels in motion in a timely fashion.
However, since Ass Burger Boy reads my blog sometimes when he comes up for air from World of Warcraft, I thought it prudent to discuss it with him so he wouldn’t learn about it on the interweb.
I love to see the way his mind works. I can pretty much jump from thought bubble to thought bubble right along with him. And somehow? Every single thing in his life becomes all. about. him.
He doesn’t see eye-to-eye with his older brother, Dances With Shrapnel. That may have started around the time that Dances used to hold him down and fart on his face, but the resentment has built over the years. He’s a Cancerian who holds onto his grudges tenaciously.
I didn’t expect any questions like “What does this involve?” or “Are you gonna be okay?”, which is just as well because the first question he asked me was if he had to invite Dances With Shrapnel to my funeral.
We had to rehearse the protocol for procedure after my untimely demise before I could point out that lump does not equal cancer in most cases.
It’s always all about him.
You gotta love him.
