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I’m so muscular science is concerned.

Remember last week when I told you that the doctor found a lump in my neck and wrote me an order to have it x-rayed and tested?  Well, I went in today expecting to get my (small) needle biopsy but when the tech looked at my neck with the ultrasound she determined that I DO NOT HAVE CANCER.  Yay!  Except that there was one part where she moved the ultrasound wand over my throat and I totally saw a skull in there.  I assumed it was the skull of my twin that I ate in utero but she said it wasn’t, and then I was like, “OMG, DEATH EATERS, and she just looked at me strangely because apparently she’s never seen Harry Potter.  She said it was just a cluster of veins and then she switched to another screen that looked like something a meteorologist would stand in front of during a hurricane and I was like “There’s a storm a-comin’” and she laughed because she’d switched over to doppler and apparently that really is what you use to tell if storms are coming.  I assume meteorologists are just ultrasound techs with enormous wands.  Then she told me that my carotid artery was “textbook perfect” and I started to suspect she was hitting on me, so I took that opportunity to ask her what the lump in my neck was.  Turns out it’s just a really giant muscle.  Or an “overly-developed asymmetrical muscle”, which makes a terrible acronym for a medical diagnosis.  Still, she assured me it was fine and that I didn’t even have to have the needle-biopsy thing.  So I don’t have cancer.  At least not in that one part of my neck.  God knows what’s lurking in the rest of my body.

Then I called Victor to tell him that for once my medical exams didn’t end with me having another horrific disease and that this lump was caused from me being TOO muscular.  Victor tried to point out that that wasn’t exactly the diagnosis, but I’m pretty sure when the written paperwork comes in it’ll be all, “O-dam.  Bitch is too muscular.  Girl needs to eat some Cheetos and watch tv.”  Or at least, that’s what it’ll say when I get finished with it.  Then Victor threatened to hang up on me and I threatened to crush him with my she-hulk neck muscle, but he knew I was bluffing because I really don’t want this lump getting any bigger.  It’s weird enough already.

PS.  My sister was betting on “silent twin” but I’d already taken that on the betting pool so she switched her money to “some weird organ hoarding all Jenny’s b12” and I had to admit that any organs of mine would totally be hoarders.  No one had their money on “Jenny’s lump is a muscle” because apparently “Jenny swallowed a mouse in her sleep” is easier to believe.  My family is filled with jerks.  Jerks who know me really, really well.

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