So, where have I been? Not blogging, I can tell you that. Sometimes, I just run out of things to say. Or, I have things to say, but they make me too angry to form coherent sentences. That’s a blog for later this week. Today, I’m going to tell the harrowing tale of the thing in my back.

I had a tumor. It started out as a little tumor. See, at first, I thought I had a dowager’s hump or something. Then, my back started hurting. This was back in January or February. I remember it like it was yesterday, because my days are mostly all the same. I was sitting in my basement family room with my besty, Jill, and we were ignoring each other in favor of looking at imagechan our laptops. We paused occasionally to show each other something funny. Oh, and also, we were watching Dracula 2000 and talking about how Gerard Butler was hotter back when he was fat. Anyway, I was like, “My back hurts. Right in the humpal area.”

I went to my doctor, and she poked it and measured it and said, “Huh. I don’t know what that is, but I don’t like it.” Which is not the best thing to hear from your doctor. Then, she got me an appointment with a surgeon, and he poked my hump and measured it and said, “It’s tumor. You want to take it off or leave it there?” Like that’s a decision you’re going to make. “You know, I have this searing back, neck and shoulder pain, but let’s just see how this plays out.” I don’t think so, thanks a lot.

So, after my surgery was rescheduled once, I finally went in and had the tumor removed on April 28th. The whole experience was pretty cool. They gave me drugs that were way better than anything I can get off the street, and which caused me to try and pull out my IV and take my gown off until the anesthesiologist just went ahead and put me under, probably because I was an idiot and screaming, “I can’t breathe!” as they held the oxygen mask over my face. When I woke up, there was no tumor. In fact, I’m willing to believe that there never was a tumor. I think it was Cthulhu.

Let’s look at the facts, shall we? Cthulhu is that guy, right up there. Note the bulbous head and tentacle face. Now, I didn’t take a picture of my tumor, owing to the fact that I was anesthetized when it was being removed, but my surgeon did use the word “tentacle” to describe it. There was a central mass and TENTACLES reaching toward my spine. Stubby tentacles, he said, but I’m pretty sure he was just trying to minimize the horror factor once I found out that The Deep Ones had taken over my body and were clearly trying to gain control of my central nervous system.

Now that my back is no longer R’lyeh West, I can concentrate on important matters. Like introducing you to an amazing new writer (who also happens to be me), talking about professionalism and mistakes new writers make, and venting my spleen about all manner of things that have been ticking me off lately.

Also, to keep me in good blogging form, if there is any subject you want me to address, let me know. I might blog about it. Or I’ll tell you to get stuffed.