Dum, dum, dum, dum... DUMMMMMM!!!!
::sigh:: My bow-tied dermatologist diagnosed that mysterious bump on my stomach last week. And unfortunately, Puff and I will not be having roach babies. Yes, I'm sure you share in our disappointment. Perhaps God just has bigger and better plans for us in store.
Yeah, it's just a dermatofibroma. (How's that for a name?!?!) Apparently, that's just some fancy-schmancy term for weird-ass bump. A search on the InterGoogle has lead me to a page that describes it as "like an iceberg" since there is more to see under the surface. Yummy!
In reality, it's a benign tumor growing on my stomach. However, if it gets any bigger, I've got to go back right away. In the meantime, I guess I just learn to live with this thing. Except sometimes I really just wish I could pop it like a giant zit. So far, that seems to be fruitless. It's not budging.
Stupid stubbon dermatofibroma-roach baby. Stubborn just like it's mama!
UPDATE: Since I wrote this draft, I talked to my dad about this dermatocrap-thingie and apparently he's had them too. First he gives me his janky baby toenails and then this. Geez, thanks Dad!