Death and Destruction, via Armpit

Admittedly, I might be a bit of a hypochondriac.
I've been using my brother's deodorant the past few days because I'm out of normal deodorant. It's the manly kind with lots of aluminum zirconium, which isn't good for you, anyway.
And of course, I put it on directly after I shave.

Yesterday, I found a little bump under my armpit.

Huzzah! Shoddy pictures!

I messed around with it, I poked it, I prodded it, I wiggled it.

There was only one reason that bump could be there.

Cancer I am dying of cancer oohh mmmyyyy ggoooddd

This was it. I was going to die.

Most people when they find out they're going to die, they go and try to do everything they can in one day. Make the most of their fleeting hours.

Me? I sat in my beanbag chair in the dark of my room all. Day. Long. Waiting for death.

I spent the day going in and out of panic attacks. I tried to self-medicate, massage, and prod my problem away. I almost didn't talk to anyone all day, drowned in negative thoughts and mental conversations of self-hatred. There is only so much you can do when you realize you're about to die from a terminal illness.

That night, I did what any sensible, dying teenager would do.

I drank.
WHat pfft I don't drink, teenagers don't drink, haha, that's so illegal, I just became very tired and dizzy and incoherent at one point of the night and did questionable things.

I did lots of stupid things and ended up passing out at about 3.
From, you know, exhaustion.

Klepto gets an A+ for trying to sleep with me during all of this.

I woke up the next morning, feeling pretty eh, but A-okay after a few cups of coffee.

I looked at the bump again, and then decided to do something I've never done before.
Consult the internet.

The first few sites said it was some sort of cyst that I shouldn't worry about.
The rest all said it was a symptom of various cancers and I didn't have much longer to live.

Terrified, I consulted three more people.

My art partner Kay.

Liz.

And my nurse/rider friend Viv.

Kay said that it was probably nothing.

This is probably how Liz felt this morning.

Liz and Viv said I was fine. I still wasn't convinced.

So I sent a picture.

LIZ: "Omg. No. You just have sensitive skin."

ME: "But it's like a bump under my skin????"

LIZ: "Just sensitive skin"

ME: "Even the bump bit???"

LIZ: "Yeah."

ME: "How do you know?????"

LIZ: "Because I just showed my Nana and she was an ER nurse for 15 years and a RN for 20."

Me: "So it's not deadly cancer???"

LIZ: "Lol no"

ME: "Well tell her I said thanks because she just saved me from a bunch of anxiety attacks."

LIZ: "Okay"

Viv's diagnosis was almost identical to Liz's, and even though WebMD sounded pretty convincing, Liz's nana, an ex ER nurse, and Viv, a current nurse, sound pretty legit.

So yeah. That's my story of how I almost died and then didn't actually.

Cheers for now?