My Fat-Sack On My Back

Several weeks ago I had a massage. The stresses and strains of my life had placed a heavy burden on my neck and shoulders, so much so that they required the hands of a professional masseuse to kneed them into a more relaxed state. This was before I began my physical relationship with the 36 year-old Singapore Airlines hostess, and so I also used the massage as an opportunity to gain some much needed human contact. Not that it was a sexy massage, far from it, it was actually highly professional, but for someone as affection starved as myself just to feel the touch of another human being upon my body was enough to bring me some form of comfort.

Whilst massaging my aching muscles the masseuse came across what she described as a "small sack of fat" just underneath my left shoulder bone. She informed me that this was a reasonably common occurrence and that it was in no way dangerous and I should not be concerned. I promptly forgot all about it. However, last week while I was scratching an itch that was pestering me on my back I became reacquainted with this "small sack of fat". This acquaintance soon led to obsession and I have been unable to keep my hands off it ever since. It's an intriguing little thing. It is able to be pushed around and squished a bit, yet has a certain solidity to it as well. Several days ago I became so consumed by its presence that I asked Cath to cut it out for me. I wanted to see what it looked like. I thought it might look like the insides of the tauntaun Han cuts open in The Empire Strikes Back in order to keep Luke warm. However, I was hoping it wouldn't have a similar smell. Unfortunately, Cath refused to cut it out for me claiming that even if I wanted to see what it looked like she did not. She also felt that the use of a kitchen knife was inappropriate for such a procedure and stated her unwillingness to clean up all the blood that would result from such an incision. Her refusal disappointed me. I felt metaphorically, but unfortunately not literally, stabbed in the back.

Whilst enjoying having something intriguing to fiddle with on my body, I think it would be prudent of me to seek the advice of a medical professional about this "little sack of fat". I don't know whether being told by a masseuse that it is nothing to worry about is enough piece of mind for me. She told me that before she became a masseuse that she was a PE teacher. Should I really be trusting the diagnosis of a PE teacher? What if it isn't "nothing to be concerned about"? What if it is some sort of tumour? A cancerous tumour. The worst kind! I could place myself in some serious medical danger by ignoring it. The consequences could be dire! I have a doctor's appointment on the 2nd of February where I will be able to inquire about it. Hopefully I will be able to survive the two weeks until then.