That is so like me to end up with mouth cancer.

I'm generally not much of a hypochondriac, but I've come to the conclusion that I have cancer in my mouth. Under my tongue, if we want to get specific. About two weeks ago I noticed a thing in my mouth, near where my tongue connects to, well, my mouth. I call it a thing because I don't really know what else to call it. Not really a sore, but a thing. A bump, like something got caught under the skin and just hung out there, like a bump.

It hurts, kind of. And now it's bigger, and not so much a bump as it is a new appendage. A second tongue, perhaps. A flap of skin, maybe, and even typing that makes me want to throw up. In my mouth, of course.

There's been some turmoil in our household as of late, but last night I decided we needed to put that aside temporarily because I HAVE CANCER. In my mouth.

Jeremy and I toyed with the idea that maybe, just maybe, it's a cold sore. Cold sores, of course, hurt like hell when in contact with salt. So we decided to test that theory.

So I laid down, flat on my back, head tilted, mouth open, and Jeremy took our salt grinder and ground sea salt directly into my mouth. I realize there may have been an easier way to go about this, but I get mildly irrational when dealing with CANCER.

I had salt all over my face, under my tongue and near my eyes, but none of it was hurting the growth that has invaded my mouth. Rule out a cold sore, I guess.

The next option was to perform a Google image search of "mouth cancer" because, why not? The search yielded plenty of interesting, albeit disgusting, results, none of which looked anything like what is going on in the neighborhood beneath my tongue.

So, piss. I'm out of ideas. So I'll just get comfortable with the fact that I have cancer under my tongue. Huh. Fun.