The Stench of Unemployment

Being unemployed has been a time of revelation for me. A time where I have grown to learn certain truths about myself. And let me tell you the truth hurts or in this case stinks. First I came to the realization that no matter how hard I try or how much Rogaine I use, as a thirty-six year old man, I will never be able to grow a beard. Fantasies about having facial hair so thick and luxurious that I would have to use heavy condition to get a comb through it were dashed as I hit the three week mark without shaving and all I had was three whiskers growing out of my chin like an old lady reading tarot cards at the Santa Monica pier. When the pain subsided from my lack of testosterone, I tried to make up for it by getting in not one, but two fights. Both have been detailed here so I won't bore you with the details. Sure I kicked some ass, but really should I bring up the fact I am thirty-six again. I am too old to get in fights but too young to grow a full beard. Tragic.

Life is hard and my latest revelation might be the toughest yet. When I lost my job and decided to no longer live by the rules of society, I threw out my antiperspirant with my razor. I figured if I didn't have a job why should I give myself Alzheimer's any faster than nature intended. I was treating myself right. At first I didn't see any adverse affects. In fact it all seemed good. My shirts no longer had crusty yellow pits that the aluminum in antiperspirant caused and I was no longer soaking wet because I put ten times the recommended amount on each pit. It seemed like a win win. Sadly I was very wrong. Within a few days I noticed I smelled a bit pungent, but not overly offensive. I carried the odor of an old person walking briskly through the mall. In the course of a month however that all changed.

There is no good way to describe it so I will just be honest. I think I just went through my second puberty. My armpits smell like the crap that is left in a pipe after you smoke a bowl. I don't get it. My diet hasn't changed other than the enormous amount of granola I seem to be consuming on a daily basis. It's like my showers don't take. Is this what my ancestors smelled like back in the old country when they labored all day? By old country I am of course referring to the Bronx and by labored I mean worked in jewelry stores.  I digress. The most alarming part is my left pit smells ten times worse than the right. I should ask my doctor to ultrasound my pits now that I know my thyroid is clear. Anyway I just figured I would share my latest in the long list of life altering events having no job has caused. If we hang out please don't judge me or sniff the air around me. It will make me feel self conscious.


Thanks

I've got thyroid cancer

Well not really, but here is my story about how I thought I had it.

After six months of stalling, I finally had my annual physical last week. I could say I stalled because I was afraid of what they might find floating around in my body or I could say I was far too busy being an unemployed sloth to have a doctor fondle my balls and tell me cough. Either excuse is acceptable in my book.

When I went in everything started off fine. The nurse took my height and weight. Only a two pound gain since the year before. So far so good. My height stayed the same. Also good. Blood pressure seems ok. I'm not going to stroke out thankfully. After the initial measurements, there were lots of questions about my eating and sleeping habits, and even a few about my bowel habits. Well I might have volunteered that info. After letting the doctor know she could learn more about my regularity via twitter, she began to poke and prod my body. Reflexes, breathing, mole check, and one test that seemed odd to me. My doc took her small hand and held my neck in some sort of kung fu hold while telling me to swallow repeatedly. She did this several times before the physical was over. After the final hernia check, I asked the doc what all the neck grabbing was about:

Doc

Oh, I felt a lump in your throat.

Barry

What?

Doc

You never noticed a growth on the right side?

Barry

No.

Doc

You are going to need to get an ultrasound.

Barry

Should I be worried?

Doc

Let's just get the results then discuss.

Now I have to wonder if I didn't ask would she have said you need an ultrasound? It seemed like an afterthought. The ultrasound was scheduled for 48 hours later so that gave me plenty of time to convince myself I was dying of thyroid cancer. Sure it's treatable. I know at least two Jewish girls who had it in their twenties and survived. I still figured mine would be the rare case that would kill me quickly, but not before stripping me of the little dignity I have by taking my hair. I am clearly not as tough as a Jewish girl.

By hour 47 I was in full panic. I went to the lab to get the ultrasound done and sweat was pouring out of my nose like never before. I figured that could be attributed to thyroid cancer as well. The technician had me lay down as she warmed up the gel for the wand. She then informed me that my doctor would get the results in three days. This made me turn white and sweat even more. I knew the technician would know right away how much time I had left. Why can't they just tell you right then and there? After about ten minutes of the wand being moved all over my neck (super gay), the test was over. As I was wiping the gel off my neck (also gay), the technician said to me, "I shouldn't tell you this, but you are going to be fine. It is just a clear cyst." I was beyond relieved. I have so much living to do. I've been given a second chance. I can't squander another minute. I am just kidding. I'm not going to do anything differently. Right after the test I took a nap and wasted the day.

Final note, why do I have a cyst in my neck? The doctor called me today and said it was nothing to concern myself about, but come on, she is clearly lying to make me feel better. In my medical opinion, there is no other explanation.


If anyone is actually reading this, it's time to rejoice. I am back to blogging.