The last 24 hours were not fun. They were also terribly embarrassing. Let me tell you how it went.

So yesterday I noticed that my pants were considerably less comfortable than the last time I wore them. At some point in the evening I decided to do away with them and put on my PJs. It was at this point I noticed a bump under my skin in the tissue of my thigh. An unidentified bump, about the size of a cashew?

Naturally, I flip out: I must have cancer, and this must be a tumor. Perhaps lymphoma. I eventually realize that I will not be able to stop freaking out about this until I can see a doctor and he tells me what IT is. So I call up Andrew and tell him that I won't be in to work in the morning because I need to see a doctor. After fidgeting nervously in bed for a while longer I call up Angela because it's the only thing that can bring me some momentary comfort. Angela, hearing how distressed I am, comes all the way out to my place (on a school night, no less) to try to calm my hypochondriacal anxiety. A poor night's sleep for both.

The wait at the walk-in clinic is about two hours, plenty of time for my mind to play out all the horrible scenarios. Living with a terminal illness, losing my hair to chemo. Finally, I get to see the good Doctor. I tell him about the "mystery bump". So he examines it, then looks at me in my obviously anxious state, and says, "Well first off, it's NOT cancer."

I breath an obvious sigh of relief. No, what I have is a subcutaneous fluid-filled abscess, probably brought about by an infected blood vessel or ingrown hair.

In short: I have a pussbag on my thigh.

Wow. The sheer magnitude of unnecessary stress I put myself through over a puss-bag is certainly astounding. I think I'm going to have to take some time here to recover. Even now, I'm writing this post with my laptop on the seat cushion in front of me rather than on my lap, terrified of the 5.8 Ghz waves emanating from it's wireless card, which probably amount to as much radiation exposure as I'd get from standing beside a microwave oven for a minute.

I'm really pissed off at myself right now. Hopefully, this has at least provided you all with some amusement.

Captain Pussbag, signing off.