“I thought the chances of it being a tumor were almost zero,” I managed to squeak
Sunita looked me straight in the eye. “I think you should see a doctor,” she said.
I trusted my manicurist implicitly with all things nails, but with my medical care… not so much. So when she stopped mid-massage to ask me if I was aware of “something there” between my right index finger and thumb and suggested I check it out, I poked the area a bit, felt nothing, and got on with my life.
Back with Sunita five weeks later, I suddenly remembered her odd comment. “It got better, right?” I asked, mainly to make conversation.
Her eyes once again locked onto mine. “Bigger,” she said.
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