I have three weeks left to live. I found a lump, a tiny one on my leg.

I Googled it to be sure.

According to my findings it looks exactly like deadly cancer or a fatty lump deposit.

Fatty lump deposits are horrible. They start occurring in your forties and have a very unattractive name.

I’m not about to go around telling people I have fat lumps because it’s #fatshamingweek. And I am supposed to be ashamed of any fat.

I’m going with the highly likely chance it’s a tumor full of cancer.

Pray for me.

Good-bye loved ones. I will miss you.

My doctor only answers the phone between 10 am and never. I have to rely on Google to answer my questions. The problem is I have planned several funerals based on my Google diagnosis.

For instance when I had a nasty rash that some of you read about here, I got a whopping diagnosis of Accidental Soap Poisoning! OMG!

Someone in my house is trying to off me with soap!? That doesn’t sound like an accident to me.

Read More…

Author

Angila has been writing since 1979 when she received her first diary, filling it with boy crazy nonsense and girly drama. It wasn't until the 21st century that she discovered writing was a healing tool to release inner chaos. When Facebook was invented Angila, who is an attention whore reveled in receiving likes and shares. Comments started pouring in that she should write a book. Knowing her lack of follow through and commitment issues, Angila ignored the advice and chose to blog. Detached From Logic is where she currently vomits her creative juices and allows the voices in her head a digital soap box. Her life long dream of having fans came when wordpress announced she had one follower. Unlike the stalkers in her life this one felt acceptable and welcomed.

Write A Comment

Pin It