Should I Worry?

I’ve had that little lump in my arm now for…. I don’t know.. past few years?

 

Can’t be that dangerous can it?

 

I asked a doctor once about it, a few years ago, he called it a skin tag.

 

I asked a friend about it, they said it looked pretty normal.

 

But it doesn’t feel like a normal skin tag.

 

And just now I realised that most of the pain in my left arm is emanating around that lump.

 

I used to think it was a sign I might be eventually having a heart attack.

 

You know those symptoms.. pain shooting down the left arm is usually a good sigh your heart needs help.

 

Either way, I’m too scared to see a doctor.  I’m afraid of what it is they have to say to me.

 

I like to think that ignorance is bliss, and if I don’t think about what it might be, then it won’t happen.  Simple female logic.

 

Okay.. maybe not female logic generically, but my logic, most of the time this works, you know.. ‘the power of positive thinking’, I’m positive this is NOT going to happen.

 

I’m positive I’ll never have cancer or have heart troubles, and I’ll live forever… maybe not happily ever after… but do I want to live forever?

 

This is a question I often ask myself.. how old do I want to live to?  Kind of hard to pick a date and time if you know what I mean.  But as long as I’m walking and talking… well.. don’t really have to keep talking.. as long as I’m… ok.. I can even live without walking if need be (although I’d miss this greatly)… but as long as my mind is active, that’s how long I want to live.

 

Is there a switch off age for the mind?

 

I hate when I think of things like this, because then my mind thinks about death, and that depresses me.

 

I don’t want to buried.  It’d be cold and damp underground.  I don’t want to be cremated either.  That’d hurt.

 

I have to keep reminding myself that as long as they remove my blood, inject me with arsenic, disect me into a thousand pieces, there’s a good chance I won’t care what they do with the body… the outer shell.. as long as my soul doesn’t stick around to find out.

 

It’s nights like this that scare me.  I DON’T want to think about the morbid side of life, and it shits me that this pops into my mind every now and then.

 

And little things like this lump on my arm, pain down my arm, and other feelings of mortality don’t help at all.

 

I can now understand why mum no longer watches horror movies.

 

When I was young, I LOVED them, watching all the different ways directors and producers come up with how to destroy a life, but as you age, and realise how close you come to the back door of your life, you don’t really want to be reminded of it by watching it on TV.

 

So what should I do about this lump?  Ignore it?  Will it to go away?

 

I guess…. maybe I should go see a doctor about it…

 

…one of these days.