It's now the next weekend. It was the 12th when the ENT saw me. He stuck a tube up my nose, stuck fiungers down my throat so far it made me gag, told me he was pretty sure it was cancer, the real question being, how bad?
He will be doing a biopsy next Wednesday. Despite my illusions about this being an extreme emergency, with every day that goes by a chance for the cancer to spread, no one medical treats it that way.
There are biopsies, endoscopies, more CT scans, consultations, tumor boards, treatment plans and don't forget the dentist. When is someone going to get around to killing the cancer that is going to kill me if we don't kill it first?
[So hush now, peace man, the babysitter's here. The best babysitter's here]
I'm going to get drunk now, while I still can.
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