No fooling

I don’t get into April Fools’ Day.  I don’t get a lot of kicks from lying to people, and in my professional context it would simply be cruel (*beep* “Hey, it’s DrPal, just letting you know you have toe cancer! I’m going on vacation, so give me a call next week.”). I don’t like the idea of lying to my wife, so that’s out.  And in my writing, I try to be factual as much as is possible, and wouldn’t want someone to think it’s true that chewing gum causes toe cancer or some such thing.

I mention toe cancer because cancer played a trick on me. When cancer tricks around, it’s usually not a good thing, but in this case… .

A bunch of years ago, I was lying in bed and my wife showed me a lump on her toe.

“What do think it could be?” she asked, somewhat overly-concerned I thought.

“Probably just an everyday bump of some sort.”

“What do you mean? Like a corn or a wart?”

“Well, I doesn’t look like any of those.  I would just call it a bump.”

“Well, what could it be?!?”

“I dunno, toe cancer?”

Her jaw dropped.  “Really?”

I answered tiredly, “There’s no such thing as toe cancer. Don’t worry about it.”

You know where this is going.

One day we get a phone call from MrsPal’s dear friend.  She went to the podiatrist for a corn or something, and he thought it looked funny, so he sent it to pathology.  It was a sarcoma, an unusual form of cancer.

I referred her to a surgeon who specializes in such things, and now she’s a healthy, nine-toed woman (and yes, everyone has made the joke about discount pedicures).

So one night, lying in bed, waiting for the latest scan to come back on her friend I turn to her and say, “Um, sorry about the ‘toe cancer’ crack.”

“Yeah, you should be.”

The Greeks knew it long before I did: hubris isn’t usually funny.

 

1 Comment

  1. I think my dog haz it teh breath cancer!

%d bloggers like this: