“I’m being abused by a tumor,” I say.
“We’ll send a squad car directly,” the voice says.
Cop arrives, wants to know what the deal is.
Tumor and I both talk at the same time.
“It lives inside me and whispers terrible things,” I say.
“He is the most awful, awful person,” the tumor says.
“Well, I gotta take one of you in,” says the cop.
“City policy,” he adds.
“Well, take the tumor,” I say. “It wants to kill me!”
“Any truth to that?” the cop wants to know.
Tumor leans forward and confidentially says,
“This man hasn’t changed his underwear in three days.”
Cop grabs me roughly, reads me my rights and cuffs me.
“No, I’m the good one!” I cry. “This is my house!”
Cop lowers my head as I slide into the back seat.
“This is so messed up,” I complain.
“You’ll learn the meaning of messed up,
if you don’t shut up right now,” the cop says.
“It’s not right,” I whisper, as we speed away.
Tumor waves So Long from the kitchen.
Sacrum tumor
Docetaxel and Circulating tumor cells
Keytruda failing, feeling desperate, advice needed quickly 
Tumor Not Shrinking
Reviewing my final Path report, post RP
