A couple weeks ago I was brunching at some hipster place, sucking down mimosas, when someone repeatedly stabbed me in the gut. At least, that’s what it felt like. For half an hour I was doubled over, wincing while trying to make charming conversation. The whole time I was thinking “All I want to do is go to the Apple Store after this. But I think I need to go to the hospital.”
But of course I didn’t go to the hospital—You know me, I’d rather bleed to death first.
A few more days of explosive pain– combined with sex so painful it was worthy of a Duggar-Approved Abstinence-Only scare campaign– forced me to go to the doctor. I opted for the lady doctor, because its like a sleepover where everyone takes their bras off, bashes the male gender, then does things they never want to talk about again.
I chatted about my work at the psych ward while she probed my hoohah, letting me know my girl parts seemed perfectly satisfactory. Then she touched my lower abdomen.
“Woah!” she exclaimed. “You’ve got something in there.”
She used the most unappealing four letter word I’ve ever heard: “MASS.”
You hear that? I have a “mass” inside of me. I have to go back to the doctor later today so they can put a spy camera in my vajayjay and steer it around like a joystick until they figure out what the hell is wrong with me. Obviously it’s cancer. Just kidding. I’m not allowed to joke about it, because it makes Alex sad.
But… he probably won’t get around to skimming this article until after the fact, so I think we’re safe. Plus, I can’t help trying to predict the future and I’ve told you about all my other ailments— like my spine and my corneas and my crippling humiliation.
So here’s what I’m thinking it could be:
1. An Alien, obviously. I’m hoping it’s one of those adorable plush green ones from Toy Story that coos at everything, and not a chest buster from Alien that’s going to explode out of me and start sucking face with its next victim.
2. The Enter State of Massachusetts Maybe “Mass” is just an abbreviation. All the cool kids abrev.
3. All The Fucks I’ve Forgotten To Give That’s where they are! Here I thought I was incapable of taking anything seriously, but the f*cks I didn’t give were just lost in a jumble of bodily organs and food babies.
4. My Twin, Who I Ate Whilst in Utero Behold! The true source of my Aussomeness!
5. An Ovarian Cyst Because that would be no big deal. Unless it’s the size of a volleyball. Which is disgusting. But no big deal. Are you reading this, Alex? It’s NO BIG DEAL.
The doctor mentioned something about possibly having to have surgery because it’s so MASSive. I started giggling, kicking my legs on the exam table, totally bound and determined to never react to a bad situation the way I’m supposed to.
I should know more after my transvaginal violation. Maybe I’ll get to go to Iraq for the surgery– isn’t that where they keep all the weapons of mass destruction? Either way it’s pretty much a win-win situation. If I don’t have to schedule a surgery I’m going to celebrate by buying a ticket and flight to BlogHer in NYC this summer. If I do have to have surgery then I’m going to feel a sense of joy and anticipation because the new season of Orange Is The New Black is coming out on Netflix and I’ll get to binge-watch it without faking sick like I did with House of Cards.
I’ll also see how many pity parties and outrageous demands I can get away with. I texted Alex from upstairs last night and told him I needed a cookie AND HE BROUGHT ME ONE. Imagine what I could ask him for if this thing turns out to be a tumor.
“Babe, I need you to bring me a kitten. It’s the only thing that will make me feel better.”
Everything is going to work out just fine.
Have you had any mysterious masses? How do you react when facing a medical test? What do YOU think my MASS is?
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