Your irrational fear of “something bad” and “seriously wrong” is the main issue regardless of the vernacular I choose to use. Delay of treatment kills people. You yourself said that a proper medical exam found an anomoly that your vaunted midwife was unable to detect. Had you simply trusted an underinformed opinion, you would have this “benign” growth unchecked. Now, you have a measurement to compare to, and I suggest you do it soon. As for the others who google, altavista or otherwise search this site; I suspect they are trying to self-diagnose a potentially deadly symptom. By circumventing the real medical professionals, they are endangering themselves and are liable to cause much greater pain and suffering to their families if their symptoms become worse as their health diminishes and eventually die.

And this blog was never yours to hijak with bogus and disinformative information in the first place. This blog has only marginally discussed this topic, and it was offhand. You’ve turned it into a crusade where other cowardly people can gather and hide to wish away cancer. It doesn’t work that way.

MY FATHER DIED BECAUSE OF MISINFORMATIVE BULLSHIT LIKE YOU ARE OFFERING.

As far as your personal opinions of me; I don’t give a rats ass. Opinions are like assholes; Most everyone’s stinks, they’re always full of shit and most of the time they shouldn’t be shared. And I don’t care if you are not amused, because you sure as hell don’t amuse me. If you are offended; Tough shit, sweetheart.

Let me spell it out: D.O.C.T.O.R. Doctor.

If you’re scared that the doctor could tell you that you have something “really bad is wrong” with you, then of COURSE it makes perfect sense to let it go unchecked for years until it necrifies your outer skin, right? I mean it must be SO much better to let something rot away your body from the inside rather than getting it checked and treated.

Here’s a quarter, go fucking buy a clue; GET A REAL LICENSED, CERTIFIED, BOARD RECOMMENDED DOCTOR TO DIAGNOSE ANY PAIN IN YOUR ARMPIT/CHEST/BODY. Even if it is “really bad”, delaying the prognosis will kill you. Guaran-fucking-teed. By the time my Dad saw someone about his “chest pains”, the cancer had spread throughout his entire body. He might as well have simply said, “Pain in my upper chest? Huh. I guess instead of having a doctor examine me right away, I’ll jump off the Sears Tower!”

Delaying proper (no midwives, spiritualists, faith healers or David Blaine) medical evaluation is exactly the same as putting a shotgun in your mouth and reaching for the trigger with your big toe.