Christopher K.

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Kit knew me well. My internal alert system was raised to DEFCON 1, a level not seen since a week ago when I thought I felt a lump in my testicle and raced to an urgent care facility in Chelsea to be felt up by a stranger in a lab coat, only to be told what I was feeling was just normal scrotum bits. Now I took a deep breath, came down off the anal cancer ledge, and urged Kit to at least get it checked out. There was also the ongoing bloody semen issue, so now he had two—possibly related—reasons to see a doctor. He agreed. Our Arnold Palmers arrived, and as I began to sip mine, I felt a second ...more
Spoiler Alert: The Hero Dies: A Memoir of Love, Loss, and Other Four-Letter Words
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