I've been trying to drift off for the last hour but all I do is listen to the whirring of the ceiling fan. No, I haven't been watching horror movies that give me sleepless nights. Again.
It's a lump. And God forbid I be dramatic about it but if you knew me better...Here comes the drama.
Everybody's telling me it's nothing. I've even been told it could be a lump of fat, seeing I've put on weight (nice. two blows). Or maybe I should massage it away. And, hey, it's not even that obvious.
I know that there's a 90 percent chance...No no....98 percent chance it really IS nothing. Just an extra mound of flesh inconveniently making its presence known on the lower end of my neck. It doesn't hurt. But I just wish it wasn't there. Can you blame me?
A lump. It's just a lump. I really am getting ahead of myself. I know everyone's trying to pooh-pooh it because maybe, just maybe, if everyone pooh-poohs enough, it won't even exist.
Except it's not growing on THEIR necks.
So yes, I'm going to let myself 'dramatize' this whole lump episode even though it's very likely it'll be gone in a few days. For starters, I'm getting it checked out tomorrow. And then I'm going to get a second opinion - preferably from a doctor who doesn't share my DNA just to be extra sure.
It's a lump. Just a lump. But if it turns out to be a lot more than a just a lump, I'm going to be very, very angry.