Killing the Crazy (At Least the Overly Paranoid Fear of Death and Decay Aspect)
I had a mole that my doctor said needed removal, only I had to wait a few weeks before I could get back in for an appointment. During that time, I panicked and contemplated, panicked and contemplated, panicked and contemplated. I’ll spare you guys the full panic details (do I have skin cancer? Am I dying? Again? I was just dying of something else last week…) and share a bit…