Getting Love From Cancer

It’d be nice. Still, I can’t shake the idea of my mom blaming my early stages form of skin cancer from being a direct result of my excessive amount of outdoor play on the stay at home dad front. I don’t feel like such a sheltered bum now dad.

I don’t plan on telling my 3 kids because Cancer, Aids and 911 are off the list words of the day for now. In an ideal universe, I’d like to extend my kids enlightened age of existence as much as I can.

Thanks to Hillary Bot Huma lickers calling anyone who voted for Trump a Nazi. I’ve had to explain Hilter to my kids already. Failed art student. And the swat sticker art isn’t beautiful or deep. It just looks like a couple of a gay stick figures doing a sixty-nine on Crystal Meth.

Also, the form of skin cancer I got is Squamous Cell Carcinoma is highly treatable. Plus, it was detected early. So, I don’t have to sweat getting my finger amputated although that would make a solid start to my romantic comedy story, The Nine Fingered Foodie. Who eventually finds a hand in marriage, the end.

Of course, I told the wife about the skin cancer. So, I could give myself more generous pours from her fancy French Roses she’s been buying lately, feeling guilt free all the way.

Cancer scare, I don’t care about getting love from cancer. When I get to blast Hair Metal with my 3 tiny little head banger dancers on Spotify, assuming my nurse wife is working this evening.
Told my younger brother about having skin cancer because my wife said I’d feel less alone. But I have God in my heart and faith in knowing it’s not my time to part.

Getting love from cancer sounds like too much pressure to place on friends. Because true ones don’t need to make any forced last-minute amends.
Getting love from cancer isn’t for me. I’d rather smell the flowers more with more mystical zest. Knowing, God hooked me up with my wife and 3 kids because he knew it would bring out my writing best.

I never sought love from getting canned. Resisting pity love makes me you more of a man.

Cancer is cancer. And it can easily come back. But if I could do it again. I wouldn’t have told anyone offline to showcase my bigger sack.

Michael Kornbluth

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