The report from the hospital is mixed.

The good news is that they found no obvious malignancy.

The bad news is that they did not find the confirmation they were expecting that it is all benign.

So, I go into hospital on 4 May for the lump to be excised. I'll be in hospital a couple of days and off work for a couple of weeks.

I am told the surgery will be 'disfiguring'. I'm not entitled to reconstructive surgery on the NHS, and my insurance only covers reconstruction in cases of cancer or accident, so I'll have to stay 'disfigured'. Not that I am anything much to look at anyway, but it still sucks.

The last five months have tested me way beyond anything I could ever have imagined. I'm wondering what the next thing is going to be. Something good, please. I want something good to happen to me. I need something good to happen. I'm scared right now.

On my second trip to Logan George took me into the hardware store downtown. He warned me before we went in that it was a 'guy place' and, because he knew everyone who either worked there or was a customer, there was likely to be some 'chewing the fat' going on for a while and if I got bored I might like to head over to Julie's Cafe for a coffee.

So, we go in, George wanders up to the counter to yak with the fellas, and I'm browsing the aisles, looking at bathroom accessories and stuff, when an old geezer came over, took me by the arm and said "now just you stop hiding back there, young lady, we all want to meet you" and led me over to the counter.

The store owner said "my wife told me last week she'd seen George Pavlik in Kroger's with a woman, and I told her it had to be one of his sisters. My wife insisted it wasn't, she knows Diane and Marie, and I said she must need her eyes testing. And then Joe told me yesterday that he'd seen George HOLDING HANDS with a girl in Lowe's parking lot! I knew it was only a matter of time before he showed his face here so we could get to the bottom of this!"

I was quite the curiosity - in a small town when you know everyone, they all want to know your business. I bet all those guys couldn't wait to get home so they could play "I know something you don't know" with their wives. And George stood there in his carhartts, beaming, and told them he'd finally met his "good gal".

America has voted ... and Bucky is out of American Idol. Here in England we don't see the live shows, but get to see both the performance and the results shows on Friday nights. I've been avoiding any news sites that might have spilled the beans before tonight's shows.

So, yet again, for probably the sixth time in a year, I was woken in the early hours by a woman screaming in the flat upstairs, which is occupied by Vic, a charmless, no-neck ignoramus. This time the woman was yelling "Let me leave, I want to go!", followed shortly afterwards by her screaming that he was hurting her. Then she left, noisily, and yelled up at his flat "How dare you fucking beat me up!" Twice. (I mean she said it twice, not that he beat her up twice, although I wouldn't rule that possibility out completely.) She left, I didn't hear a car start, nor did he follow her out to take her anywhere. The yelling up at his place seemed to be more for effect than anything. Just what I needed at 4 am.

These don't appear to be women he's in a relationship with, by which I mean that he's obviously sleeping with them, but they don't seem to be boyfriend/girlfriend, so I suspect it's more of a business transaction. The women who visit him are all much younger than him, under 25 (he's probably late 50s) and kind of trashy looking, uneducated (from hearing them speak) and without their own vehicles.

It worries me.

Where do I draw the line between minding my own business and raising my concerns? Do I wait until someone's really seriously hurt?

Fine line stuff here which I am considering crossing.

I watched American Idol last night (in the UK they show the performance show followed by the results on Fridays) and Bucky got more votes than Katherine. She looked as if she was about to throw up when she was standing there waiting to hear if it was she or Lisa who was going home. Hahahahaha!!!

Remember folks - Vote Bucky! You know it makes sense.