the lump is not cancer. it is a mysterious infection for which antibiotics are hopefully the cure. my insurance & medical professions are on it.
meanwhile--my book on underground houses arrived in the mail--nice timing. written by a guy who seems like a hippie, in the 70's, the opening paragraph gets my attention immediately:
"This is a highly personal book, perhaps too much so. I can't help it. I could no more write a dry technical manual than i could dance the Swan Lake Ballet. I have strong opinions, likes and dislikes. They are bound to find their way into these pages. If at times this book sounds like the drunk bellowing at the end of the bar, it was written, after all, by the drunk who is often seen at the end of the bar, bellowing.
"My dislikes may offend you. Tisk tisk. So that you may brace yourself, or so that we may start off on the wrong foot--whichever--I'll list a few here. I dislike businessmen, the American medical profession, "liberated" women, most architecture, agri-business, 90 percent of industry, cities, pavement, the American philosophy of self-indulgence, strip mining, clear-cutting, nuclear reactors, and anything having to do with recombinant DNA research and development. I consider television and the automobile two of the nation's greatest curses; the former beacuse it rots the mind, the latter because it rots the body and destroys the land."
for some reason this reminds me of House, mike.