For the past few years, a dear friend of mine has been dealing with tumors in her brain.
Last May, Fred reared his ugly head and ruined my June and July because my McMan was in pain
This May it's my Ma. After showing me the scar on her breast, she asked me what we could do to salvage her retirement job as a pole dancer.
Happily I can report the brain tumor is dead, Fred is dead and hopefully, in a few weeks, my mom's cancer will be gone.
Great time for my favorite Dr. Izzy Stevens to have tumors and start seeing Denny/Papa Winchester again. Hits a little too close to home, and I'm really wishing I hadn't eaten all of my girl scout samoas because those and a big glass of milk would make me feel better right now.
So, tumors? Fuck off. Fuck right off.
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