"The Tale Of Louie Da Lip..."

OK...so this here blog thang is 'sposed ta be a daily thang, but lately it seems, I've only managed to keep it up about once a month.
Sue me!
(as if anyone was actually reading it anyhoo...)
I'll try to keep it up a bit more often.
I kinda originally made this thing with original photo tie-ins, but haven't been out taking pix all winter.
Now that the weather is getting warmer...
I'll be out for some more photoshoots.

Been kinda busy lately running around to doctors for me and my mom, etc.
She just did another 2 1/2 week stint in da joint...
St. Mary's Hospital.
She kinda getting worse...but still hangin' on like da stubborn old Pollock champ that she is, but came home with more meds, more problems.

As for me...
well it's been a 2 month long, absolute nightmare as far as my "lip cancer".
Two months ago I was told after a biopsy of a lip lesion by my dermatologist to,
"Go to the Cancer Institute of New Jersey...
looks like you might have cancer."
And after weeks of train rides down to the place, and poking & prodding, running around to plastic surgeons and wutnut...
I found out that my insurance didn't cover all the costs, and so then the plastic surgeon looked like he was gonna bail out,
which in turn would make the cancer guy bail out.
So more calls and running around trying to figure out how to get it all paid for thru charity care, etc.
I even went to the Cancer Society of America's website, and looked on their forums for some possible charitable help.
I mean... this is America... we couldn't possibly let our own go sick without SOMEBODY reaching out to help...right...???
I went to their finacial section and read like 400 message threads concerning financial help. I quickly found out that if you have cancer or any other major disease in this country, and you aren't covered by the "proper" medical insurance...
or you ain't rich...
YOUR PRETTY MUCH FUCKED.
Start pickin' out yer coffin pal.

But my lip had healed after the initial biopsy, and my cancer guy called telling me that the first lab report came back inconclusive, and so did his newer one.
The reports pretty much said...
"Could be cancer... maybe not..."
And he said, cancer usually doesn't just up and heal like that.
So even though I was scheduled for surgery on March 29th, he decided to have me go in for a last minute, more extensive, "deeper" biopsy last friday.
Fucker slit my shit open like a pig, dug around in there a bit, then sewed me up like an old coat!
(Fuckin' OW!)
Removing the stitches the other day by myself in the bathroom with a tweezers & nail clipper was certainly fun too!
They kept annoyingly unraveling and popping up like those stiff hairs on Jeff Goldblum's back in the movie "The Fly"!
So I had no choice but to pull 'em myself.

But after the last weeklong nerve-racking wait for results, and my follow-up visit to him yesterday, I am EVER so happy to announce....

"IT"S A FUCKIN' MIRACLE... I'M HEALED...!!!!"

Turns out, it wasn't cancer after all, but just a bad, ugly, SCARY case of..."maybe not".
After the good news, I told my cancer doctor that I never wanted to see him again...
and he told me to get out and never come back.