Sparks Ignites

I have a personal relationship with my bladder. I know it seems odd. We’re not dating, although it does come along with me everywhere I go. For the most part, it’s a tolerable partnership, except when it gets pissed off. We became close several years ago when I was diagnosed with bladder cancer. Any organ or body part that decides to revolt immediately gets attention. Luckily my bladder leaked information, and they found the malignancy at an early stage. This was good news and bad news. The cancer was treatable, but the process involved numerous cystoscopies and catheterizations. This is an exciting procedure where a tube with a camera is inserted into a small hole down in your southern hemisphere. The doctor can then view inside your bladder like he’s James Cameron searching for hidden treasure on the Titanic. I was allowed to watch the deep bladder diving on a video screen. Inside the bladder, it’s pink and wrinkled like a geriatric Barbie. I was hoping to see a couple of minnows or ...