It\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s Sunday night and I\u00e2\u20ac\u2122m cooking salmon outside. My normal dinner nights are Tuesday and Thursday, but Diane doesn\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t grill. Even a thick fillet only takes ten minutes, and because I’ve got something to say to Diane in private, before Matt appears growling for dinner, I hurriedly ask, \u00e2\u20ac\u0153Diane, what are you doing tomorrow?\u00e2\u20ac\u009d:<\/p>\n
Diane: “What do you mean, what am I doing tomorrow?\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n
Me: \u00e2\u20ac\u0153What do you mean by what do I mean? What\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s your schedule?\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n
Diane: \u00e2\u20ac\u0153You know my schedule. Why are you asking?\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n
Me: \u00e2\u20ac\u0153What do you mean, why am I asking? Can I ask a more innocent question? Tell me what you\u00e2\u20ac\u2122re doing!\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n
Diane: \u00e2\u20ac\u0153Tell me what\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s really up.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n
Me: \u00e2\u20ac\u0153I can\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t ask what you\u00e2\u20ac\u2122re doing on a particular day without you thinking I have an agenda?\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n
Diane: \u00e2\u20ac\u0153No you can\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t. You know what I do on Mondays.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n
\u00e2\u20ac\u0153What\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s for dinner?\u00e2\u20ac\u009d Matt bounds down early.<\/p>\n
\u00e2\u20ac\u0153Salmon and it\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s almost ready, \u00e2\u20ac\u009d I answer, happy for the distraction. I figure Diane will forget my question by the time we finish eating. It still gnaws at me that I\u00e2\u20ac\u2122m so goddamn transparent to her. Dinner ends and Matthew slips out the door to Debbie\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s. I get up to leave:<\/p>\n
Diane: \u00e2\u20ac\u0153Why did you ask me what I\u00e2\u20ac\u2122m doing?\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n
Me: \u00e2\u20ac\u0153Stop it. I just wanted to know what your schedule was.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n
Diane. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153Why? I know there is something up.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n
Me. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153Up? Nothing. N-O-T-H-I-N-G. Do you get it now?<\/p>\n
Diane: \u00e2\u20ac\u0153Tell me the truth.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n
Me: \u00e2\u20ac\u0153The truth is I want to strangle you.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n
Diane: \u00e2\u20ac\u0153After you tell me what\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s wrong.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n
Me: \u00e2\u20ac\u0153Wrong, now something is wrong?\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n
Diane: \u00e2\u20ac\u0153What is it.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n
Me. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153I found a lump on my side early last week and I\u00e2\u20ac\u2122m having it checked out tomorrow.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n
\u00e2\u20ac\u0153How big is it and why didn\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t you tell me?\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n
\u00e2\u20ac\u0153You have enough on your mind; it feels like a small Easter Egg. I emailed the doctor\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s office and they said come right in. I assume it\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s nothing, but with everything going on, I figure it\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s best to have someone else tell me it\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s nothing. Then I can forget about it.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n
Monday I\u00e2\u20ac\u2122m off doing estimates, but I make it to Dr. Long\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s office at 4:30. The nurse tells me to remove my shirt, which I do, and then I sit and wait. Instead of focusing on the flab pouring over my belt, I pick up a Time magazine, but then Dr. Long walks in. He smiles as though we\u00e2\u20ac\u2122re old friends, and proceeds to tell me about his son who attends St. Lawrence University, but has this semester abroad at James Cook University in Northern Queensland, and how he and his wife will visit him in Australia and then travel to New Zealand, and how much it costs to call him and how his son will say call him on Friday, but when he does his son says, “But, Dad, it’s Saturday,” and on and on.<\/p>\n
Finally, he stops and says, \u00e2\u20ac\u0153So, what about you?\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n
\u00e2\u20ac\u0153I have this lump.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n
\u00e2\u20ac\u0153Does it hurt?<\/p>\n
\u00e2\u20ac\u0153No.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n
\u00e2\u20ac\u0153How long has it been there?\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n
\u00e2\u20ac\u0153You know, I don\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t know. I don\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t feel myself up as often as I used to.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n
He walks over, puts his fingers together and moves my lump around.<\/p>\n
\u00e2\u20ac\u0153It\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s a benign tumor called a lipoma. If it grows it might be a liposarcoma, a malignant cancer, but I\u00e2\u20ac\u2122ve only seen two of those in twenty-five years. Ninety-nine to one it\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s benign.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n
\u00e2\u20ac\u0153Good. That\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s all I wanted to hear. But because I\u00e2\u20ac\u2122m going to get asked this question, if it is cancerous and I\u00e2\u20ac\u2122m just waiting around to see if it is, do I lessen my chances of survival?\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n
\u00e2\u20ac\u0153No, because if it is you don\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t have any anyway.” <\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
It\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s Sunday night and I\u00e2\u20ac\u2122m cooking salmon outside. My normal dinner nights are Tuesday and Thursday, but Diane doesn\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t grill. Even a thick fillet only takes ten minutes, and because I’ve got something to say to Diane in private, before … Continue reading