Sometime last summer there appeared a small lump smack dab in the middle of my back.
I didn’t think much of it. In fact, I didn’t think. Much. Period. I pushed it back into the recesses of my mind, to the same place where those kinds of thoughts reside.
The overly rational side of me argued that it’s just ingrown acne. This kind of thing has happened to me before. When I was in university I developed a smaller-than-a pea sized bump at the side of my face next to my ear. I rushed myself to the campus doctor to get it checked out. Turned out it was just a pimple that never made it to the surface. It was partially drained, and then I had to take care of it myself by periodically holding a hot washcloth to my face.
Last week or so my lump-that-is-slightly-larger-than-a-pea started to hurt. And then I remembered how many times my back got sunburned due to improper coverage. After much humming and hawing I finally made a doctor’s appointment yesterday.
A few months ago my doc’s office moved even farther than his already slightly-inconvenient location. His hours are crazy, a few hours on one day, none the next. The voicemail message is dictated by someone who is barely understandable … all factors that make calling and going there a real pain. That, and the fear of getting bad news.
Deny deny deny deny. I’m good at that. Maybe too good.
So my appointment is about two weeks from now. I spent a sleepless night last night thinking about it yet trying not to think about it at the same time. It won’t be my last, I’m sure.
p.s. in need of sunshine and spring? I’ve uploaded a few somethings to my flickr.
