"But I've got my brain," I've been telling myself. My body may be broken but at least my noggin is a-okay.
Except it's not. My stupid tumor has grown. It's only a teeny, tiny bit bigger, but the oncologist seemed pretty confident that it's grown over the past year. The oncologist seemed more serious than usual and the observing resident looked at my scooter, then the pictures of my brain, and then averted my gaze.
I mean, fuck. Bad Gumball!
