B9? Bingo!

I won today. Which is saying a lot considering that my day began with me having to endure listening to both a Glee soundtrack album and then the Rent Broadway cast album (work is one thing; indentured servitude is quite another, and while I'm on record disdaining Broadway musicals, I must admit, if I hear the Oklahoma! album I'll happily sing along, but my God is Rent dreck). But after work I listened to a voicemail from the dermatologist who removed a speck of a growth thing from my left temple the other day; she said the results of the biopsy were in and for me to call back. Now this thing was really just a speck (though the wound left by its removal makes me look like a Frankenstein wannabe) and not really unsightly, so despite my years of sunburning, I really wasn't that worried about it. But in the minute between listening to the voicemail and calling back, I got a bit antsy, as only the words "the results of your biopsy are in" will do. As the phone rang, my paranoia spiked--if the results were good, wouldn't the doctor say so on the voicemail? The fact that I have to call back and speak to a nurse doesn't sound good. Then, of course, the wonders of modern technology. After listening to my options (and wondering if there was one like, "for dial-a-prayer, please press 6") I chose 3 and had to leave a voicemail of my own. It was just after four p.m. I thought, if that office closed at four and I have to wait until tomorrow to learn the "in" results of my biopsy, I'm going to need a referral to an ulcer specialist. Lo and behold, though, within five minutes a friendly voice called back and told me the results were "benign." I almost drove to a tanning salon in celebration.

Benign. Let alone the spelling, what a strange word. For some reason it just doesn't look like good news. And once you know the definition I guess it's impossible to comment on the sound of it, but I bet if you got 100 people together who didn't know the word and told them the results of their test were benign, just the sound of that would make 98 of them shudder in fear. But my gosh, what a beautiful word. Even without the major meaning it carries today--basically, no cancer--it's one of the nicest words there is. Five definitions, courtesy of dictionary.com:

1. having a kindly disposition; gracious
2. showing or expressive of gentleness or kindness
3. favorable; propitious
4. (of weather): salubrious; healthful; pleasant or beneficial
5. Pathology: not malignant; self-limiting 

Truly, folks, outside of the definition of bacon, are there more glorious words grouped together in the dictionary? I mean, salubrious is worth the price of the dictionary in and of itself. Self-limiting I guess in the sense of not metastasizing, not spreading. So why is it that outside of the medical use of the word--which is great enough--benign seems to have a sort of weak connotation? "Oh, don't mind him. He's benign." Sort of nothing more than harmless, where in reality, it should be one of the greatest compliments you could bestow on a person--kind, gracious, gentle: benign! It saddens me to say that although I can't really explain it, if you said to someone, in all sincerity, "Oh, thank you so much for those kind words; you're so benign," you'd get an odd look at best and maybe a slap at worst.

So, in the spirit of my good news today, I'd like to mount my little soapbox here and represent for the greater literal usage of the word benign. Risking the slippery slope of the fate of the Smiley face and Bobby McFerrin's one hit "Don't Worry, Be Happy," I proudly proclaim the commencement of the BEnign Movement. I see t-shirts with a cool logo. I see people holding doors for others and in response to "thanks" they say, "benign!" Rush over to help that older person trying to navigate the ice, offer your arm, and say, "benign!"

Case in point. After hearing me grumble today about performing the most tedious task at work (apart from listening to Glee and Rent), Co-Worker brightened my day by giving me a Fun Size Snickers bar (so delicious). The same Co-Worker who earlier offered me some scrumptious fries, who the other day gave everybody Fun Size Snickers bars, and who before that came in on her day off with a box of donuts for us all--Co-Worker is not only salubrious, but incredibly benign. Thank you sincerely, Co-Worker.

Lord knows that in this crass and often cruel world, we need a shitload of benign. So, dear readers, go forth and BEnign. Benign, what a great word. It may not pay the rent, but it sure kicks gleeful's ass.