The Tumours Made Me Interesting Read Online Free PDF Page A

ticket. The fetid stench it kicked up was firmly on my side. I couldn’t help but think that if my impending death helped earn me a new keyboard, it was in some ways worth it.
    My supervisor, Kerry, was a strange woman both in appearance and demeanor. She had an obese person’s head, which sat atop an anorexic body. It was a jarring combination that, no matter how many times you saw it, always led to double takes. Encounters with Kerry always made me a little nervous. If I were being honest, this had more to do with my relationship to authority figures rather than her curiously confronting appearance. As I approached her office I could see her hurling heads of iceberg lettuce against the wall and yelling the names of zodiac signs with each impact. She caught me out of the corner of her eye and ushered me into her office.
    “Hey, Bruce. Want to sling some lettuce?” she said in a voice that fluctuated in pitch. “What’s your star sign?”
    “Umm… I’m a Scorpio.”
    She took a step back and waved her hands comically. “Oh, I should keep away from you. You’re a dangerous one.”
    I don’t know whether the smell hit her first but she caught a glimpse of the keyboard in my hands. “What’s all this about?”
    “I had an accident, Kerry. Think I finally need a replacement.”
    “You threw up on that, didn’t you?”
    I nodded slightly, my cheeks flushing with shame.
    “Are you okay, Bruce? Perhaps you should go home and sleep it off.”
    “It’s okay. Just need to get my keyboard changed over so I can get back to it.”
    “I’ll see what I can do.” She hurled another head of lettuce. “The tech budget is blown… unless… give me a minute, Bruce. I think I can help you out.”
    A smile filled my face. I was finally about to receive something new. I imagined my fingers tapping the pristine keyboard and the smile grew larger. Kerry was on her hands and knees, boney arse jutting skyward. She was shuffling around under her desk. I remained lost in new keyboard fantasies.
    “Eureka!” she yelled, eventually reemerging with another keyboard.
    My heart sank. It was exactly the same as my current keyboard, sans vomit.
    “I thought we’d trashed all these things. Pretty sure yours is the only computer it even works with. Your lucky day!”
    “Thanks,” I seethed. I plucked the new/old keyboard from Kerry’s hand and stormed out of the office. I flung the old one in a bin. The sound of pelted lettuce accompanied my exit.
    I was ruminating on the sheer inequity of life when my phone started barking. I dropped the new keyboard, a few keys coming loose and shooting straight up. With my phone in hand, I stared in dread. The message was from my doctor. I opened it with eyes shut. When they opened, I was faced with the following:

    Hey Bruce. The Doc here. Checked out the tumour. It’s definitely a tumour. You’re pretty much fucked. It’s okay though. Heaps of people die of cancer. You should come and hear me jam some time. We seriously fucking rocked last night! Later, dude.
    3.
    “Y ou’re gonna love this place, man. It’s called ‘The Tent’. All the people behind the bar dress in a tent! It’s nuts. You should see ‘em try to pour a drink in those things.”
    Jerry was ecstatically happy. After receiving the text message to end all text messages, I decided that numbing my brain with alcohol was a good idea so I accepted his offer. He was bouncing down the footpath with me lagging behind.
    “Gotta say, dude. I never expected you to actually get fucked up with me. I had you pinned as a stay at home kinda guy. Hell, it’s a Tuesday!”
    “Normally I am that kind of guy. I just feel in the mood today.”
    “How’s the ol’ upchuck problem?”
    “Better,” I lied. Truth was, the nausea hadn’t subsided and now it was joined by a stabbing pain in the pit of my stomach. News of the cancer had given my body permission to start feeling everything that was wrong with it. Each ache was amplified and