My dad got his prostate biopsy yesterday morning. I’m going to dedicate this post to him instead of focusing on my own narcissistic butt today. Cancer or no cancer, it’s still a nice butt despite what you may think.

The end of my chemo treatment last night was rough. My IV would not send blood back up (more on this later) and because of it, we were running late on finishing treatment.

…because pizza and .9% sodium chloride doesn’t have the same ring as pizza and beer

I hope my stupid title was as funny as I thought it was in my head. Tumor -> Former? There’s so many layers! If you don’t think it’s funny, too bad, you have to because I’m the one with the cancer.

The last few days my dad’s been correcting me when I say cancer he says “it’s not cancer, it’s a tumor” and then I’ll reply “yah a malignant tumor which is cancerous”. I feel like he’s in denial to the point where he’s calling Derek: HE-WHO-SHALL-NOT-BE-NAMED.