So It's True, Shit Does Happen

 The other day my boyfriend had an endoscopy to see if all that nasty old cancer was gone from his stomach. "Ain't no cancer here!" the pictures said. Awesome!

Later that night I came out of the kitchen, where I was eating ice cream out of the container (I do that sometimes), and found him doubled over on the sofa, what's left of his hair all matted down with sweat.

"Is something wrong?" I tried to sound casual because when your boyfriend's going through chemotherapy you can't get all worked up over every little thing.

"I think I need to go to the emergency room," he answered in a voice like a cat with laryngitis. Um, not awesome. Turns out he has pancreatitis, which is painful but not deadly. So I was right not to get all worked up. But it still made me think of that line from "Shakespeare's Sister" by The Smiths: I can smile about it now, but at the time it was terrible. (groan)

Good Morning, Baltimore!

Oh, Larry...