Today was {S}’s 57th birthday.
As we do, we spent his birthday together. It’s been years. I think the only year I missed was when I was with {D} and las year. Back to old times.
Tonight he responded to the happy birthday text, so I went over and saw him, I told him I wanted a picture of the lesion on his shoulder, so I took the pictures.
He was very upset about it. He didn’t want me taking those pictures.
I fed them into ChatGPT. I fed them into Google Gemini. I fed them into Grok.
It’s not looking good.
It sounds like, as I keep putting the symptoms into the AIs, the pictures of the lesion, how it felt when I touched it, and where he’s having pain, there’s an excellent probability, according to all of them, that it’s not good.
I don’t know what to do with this.
I don’t know. I’m stoned, so I’m really stoned, and I’m hoping that I’m just overreacting. But if it is what I think it is, if it is what AI thinks it is…
You know what? What’s three more hours before {Dr. H} gets up to check her messages and tell me tomorrow?
Tomorrow I am calling around first to get prices.
If, again, AI is right, {Dr. H} is going to tell me tomorrow to make sure he goes to the emergency room right away. Right away.
If that’s what {Dr. H} says, then it’s not good. It’s not good.
He looked so thin. He has lost so much weight.
We were telling stories from the old days. He told me this great story about how he jumped into the water and tried to swim away from the police.
Twice.
You think jumping into the Atlantic Ocean is a good idea in the first place? Then your dumbass runs from the police a second time and does it again, expecting what exactly?
And then this motherfucker is like, “Yeah man, they just circle you and have all the lights on you.”
No shit, {S}.
What exactly did you think was going to happen?
Apparently he thought it was such a good idea that he should do it twice.
He is so stupidly {S} I don’t know if he’s going to do anything about the lesion because he hasn’t done anything about it in five years.
goddamnit
I can’t lose {S}. Not like that.
I could go and never see him again and he was okay, but I can’t lose {S} like that.
And I don’t know if I’m going to be able to even talk him into going to the doctor.
I think I’m the only person who knows.
And I can’t do anything about it because he is a 57-year-old grown-ass man.
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