Psychological Knee Cancer

Well, I've had a good run, but I guess everyone's got to go sometime. I'm afraid to tell you that my time seems to be quite close.

There was once what I believed to be a perfectly benign freckle on my left knee. Now, on my left knee is only impending doom. It had changed not only shape, but also colour, so surely all hope must be lost.

I strongly suspect that the fact that about a quarter of my left knee has also changed shape and colour is because of the cancer that started at the freckle. It definitely cannot be related to the fact that I went out on Wednesday and drank too much Havana Club and coke* and then walked rather forcefully into a chair-leg. Several chair-legs. And a chest of drawers. Hell, at least I was still walking, more than I can say for some. My point is, any fool can tell a bruise from a tumor, right?

If I did have a tumor, I'd name it after Bono.

*My tipple of choice on a night out is Bacardi and coke, the reason being that it's a fairly good, but also fairly cheap rum. If I don't have a tumor, and if I survive psychological knee cancer, I must remember that Radio do such cheap deals even on interesting spirits on Wednesdays.