Saturday, March 23, 2024

A GARDEN OF ROSES

It doesn't take much. Someone made casual mention of J's outburst about anal sex last week, mere minutes after his arrival, and for the next half hour the screaming conversation in the back room was about anal sex, bowel incontinence, and vomitting. All three of those are linked in their minds, and there had been a regular who exploded in the bathroom a few times, but with a bit of luck we'll never hear from him again.

One of them is now worried about lung cancer. What with his cigar habit. Cheap stogies. So he asked the neurosurgeon about cancer tests, hoping for a simple and clear answer, and got a short but comprehensive lecture about various types of cancer because of different cells. And what are the early signs of cancer? Sometimes entirely unnoticeable. That's why lung cancer is such a killer. The victim might not be diagnosed until too late.

The concept of many different types of cell, millions of cells in the body, and no clear warning signs early on, will keep him up all night. And seeing as he does not read very well (jumps to conclusions), doing his own research is distinctly not a good idea.
Anything can go wrong, Roger. Anything. And there are millions of cells in your body. Millions.

This illustration is an over-simplification, no those aren't the real colours, shapes, or relative sizes, and those terms are names we gave these parts because they are in fact different, although to the unassisted eye it would all look like a miniscule blob of liver pâté.

Please don't do your own research, Roger. You'll end up with a recipe for chicken liver pâté, and you'll get that wrong too. I've heard you talk about food. It was painful.



For crap's sakes, Roger, stop examining your stool.
There's a time and a place for that.
It looks like !!!, okay?



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