Frinnefreid's Lump

F found an angry, swollen lump on the inside of his thigh. He's generally hyper-vigilant about his health, so I didn't worry about it. I knew that he would have it looked at.
F has been to the doctor for things in the past that were completely ridiculous and frankly, bordering on hypochondriac-ish for as long as I've know him. No need to worry about him seeing a doctor.
Last night I asked F for the 3rd or 4th time if he had made an appointment yet. No, he said - and he wasn't going. I guess I could think about that differently if F hadn't had cancer 4 years ago.
One of our first dates was when I accompanied F to the oncologist for his 6 month screening. He drank a jug of barium and had several x rays.
I asked him to please see a doctor. I begged him to see a doctor. He refused. Then I cried. Then I got angry. Why should it be so hard for him to do something so simple - if not for himself, for me?
I threatened.
After all - why shouldn't I smoke? I love smoking. I don't do it, except on rare occasion, because F worries. Before we started dating, I smoked a pack a day and loved every single one. I don't do that anymore.
But I am pretty sure that if I had to bury F, I'd start back up because the truth is, the true thing that I loved about smoking was the fact that it was killing me. That is why I really savored every minute and jumped out of bed to do it at the beginning of every day.
I am so, so lucky - but so, so tired. I feel like I have had my share - more than my share.
Surviving my childhood and surviving my first marriage, well I have just had enough for now. So, I don't think I'd take up smoking again, if I had to bury F. I think I'd take the shorter route.
And so, F made an appointment to see his doctor.