There is this knobby cyst about the size of a baseball on my stomach underneath my left rib cage. As smooth as a whiffle ball to rub, it jams against my ribs. The region feels irritated and sore.
The doctor tells me it's not cancer. I think it is. But I would rather go on thinking I'm not dying. This is foolhardy and naïve because death does us all in. Did you get the memo?
Could this be the beginning of the end of my life? Is this a tell-tale sign that writing for Points in Case is eating me alive?In denial I go on with my life wondering how long it will be before the cyst spreads to my abdomen, man region components, thighs, hearth, shoulders, neck, and brain.
Give it a few more days. Life is all about dying. You can read about this everywhere.
This is not my only cyst. There are now about a dozen on my body and they seem to growing exponentially. A few are on the inside of my arms, a few near the kidneys on my lower back, another one in my lower belly. These come in various sizes ranging from acorns to peaches to golf balls.
These seem to be natural growing human growth hormones. You would think they would make me perform better, think more clearly, writer better. But evidence of that remains elusive.
The cyst under my cage is now sizzling as if it's on a hot stove frying bacon. It feels as if boiling grease is wrecking my ribs. Could this be the beginning of the end of my life? Is this a tell-tale sign that writing for Points in Case is eating me alive?
If the website's medical team were to take an X-ray of this gnarly knob and post it as the graphic to illuminate this story, this would have a more powerful impact on readers. Visuals hit people hard. This art should probably show some pink and reddish tissue mass and some charcoal-colored, atrophying ribs. It may be the first time people would read about a person's insides written by the person revealing his insides.
You can imagine the letters to the editor that would flow back to Points in Case: "Hey man, do you think that guy has cancer and should get it checked out? Maybe he's in denial? What are you doing to that guy, making him submit so much stuff to you that his insides are frying? You should pay him some workmen's compensation, unless he's a freelancer, in which case let him die. There are plenty of other writers out there you can kill off without paying them either. Stick to your business case."
In response to the deluge of mail, Points in Case will issue a public statement responding to the furor:
"After fully investigating this writer's internal organs and consulting with our human resources department, we have determined that he is probably going to die soon but that that's not our problem. We hire and fire people at will and he's not even someone we know. He just sends us stuff and most of the time we reject it. It is our professional opinion that this guy would be better off dead than alive."