I can’t imagine the comments being “JOOOOO!”-y, but you never know…
Anyway, I’ve promised myself that if I ever find out I have cancer, I get to start smoking again.
This leaves me going for mammograms I don’t believe in, then waiting in vain for the phone to ring, like a particularly morbid teenager. That’s when I’m not twisting into awkward poses, going on a skin safari in search of promising new moles or suddenly suspicious-looking old ones.
Last week, I thought I’d finally found a new and even better excuse to light up…
