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I have three weeks to live.

I have three weeks left to live. I found a lump, a tiny one on my leg.

I Googled it to be sure.

According to my findings it looks exactly like deadly cancer or a fatty lump deposit.

Fatty lump deposits are horrible. They start occurring in your forties and have a very unattractive name.

I’m not about to go around telling people I have fat lumps because it’s #fatshamingweek. And I am supposed to be ashamed of any fat.

I’m going with the highly likely chance it’s a tumor full of cancer.

Pray for me.

Good-bye loved ones. I will miss you.

My doctor only answers the phone between 10 am and never. I have to rely on Google to answer my questions. The problem is I have planned several funerals based on my Google diagnosis.

For instance when I had a nasty rash that some of you read about here, I got a whopping diagnosis of Accidental Soap Poisoning! OMG!

Someone in my house is trying to off me with soap!? That doesn’t sound like an accident to me.

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