James came home for lunch, and said, with his usual cheer, "HA! You always thought the lung cancer would kill me--but instead it'll be Lyme disease!" and rolled up his pant leg to reveal that overnight, his tick bite had metamorphisized into a gigantic red bullseye.

James already had a doctor's appointment, but I'm getting him to call and see if he needs to be in right away. As we wait ten minutes for the doctor's office to re-open to seek advice, one must contemplate--how the HELL do people get Lyme disease and not realize it? That thing's the size of a friggin' meteor crater.

Well, thank god we caught it in time to treat. I hope.