When I was fifteen, I developed these small lumps on my wrist. They were maybe the size of buckshot, just larger than a pinhead. I showed them to the doc when I went in for my foot after Bobby dropped that tree trunk on it, and she said it was probably nothing serious.
So I ignored them, although they stuck around for years, until finally, after Bobby ran his car over my other foot, I brought it up again with a doc.
He got all curious and cut one open.
And that was the start of the Death of Humanity.