The Spot

"......there's a spot." Of course more was said after that, things were explained, questions asked and answered, but everything was kinda of hazy after "....there's a spot." After 30 odds years of being the only man at a dance party with no music in a decrepit building I had decided to grow up. So I pick up sticks and move to Miami. New faces, new places, no drugs, no alcohol, no clubs, hell....even no women so far. I just wanted different and different requires stability, accountability....a whole bunch of "ibility" if it ended in that it was needed. No pain no gain right? So each day as an "adult" is terrifying to this manchild, but it has to be done. So I go where I have to go, be where I have to be. Got myself a lil' job. Shit, I'm even writing a blog as you can see. Then it occurs to me...."hey, you need  a doctor, you're a man now, you should value your health." So I find a doctor, make an appointment, KEEP the appointment (imagine that boys and girls) and for once am totally honest with a doctor. Since I've been smoking a pack of cigarettes a day since 11years old the doctor felt it was a pretty good idea to get a CAT Scan. Let me back up....see, I'm the guy who always makes out. I've always miraculously left before the shooting, missed the brawl...so on and so forth. So a CAT Scan? Pfffft! No worries. Then my phone rang, and the young man on the other end said "....there's a spot.". Now I'm scared, and I shouldn't be, because everyone says I don't know anything for sure yet. But none of them have a spot on their right lung so it rings hollow. They say life shows up....and death awaits us all. Regardless of the outcome (I'm pretty sure I'll be fine.) but the knowledge that your  life can turn on the finding of "....a spot.". Well, it's sobering.

*Hannibal*

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