**To date I have actually had none of these diseases. The thing about being a hypochondriac is it not only forces you to worry about your own illness, it makes you a hypochondriac for everyone you love. Hypochondria by proxy, if you will. Meaning that if Kevin comes home with an ache in his arm, I’m Googling “arm pain male cancer” and “arm pain male heart attack” in less time than it takes to call an ambulance.
Of course, the reverse is true. Since Kevin couldn’t worry less about his health, when I’m sure I’m dying, he enjoys making fun of me.
For example, when I ask him if he thinks a symptom I’m having is something to worry about, he might reply, “Yeah, you’re probably going to be dead by next month and then it’s back in the dating game for me, yee haw.”
Also, on the night before the CT scan, I walked into the kitchen and discovered Kevin doing the dishes. “Thanks for doing the dishes,” I said. “Well, I figured I should. I mean, since you’re dying and everything,” he replied nonchalantly.
Similarly, whenever we drive somewhere and the parking is tight, Kevin always suggests I hurry up and get MS so we can score the handicapped spot. Ha ha. I suppose the Fates have done their job in partnering me with Kevin. I can only imagine if he were as big of a hypochondriac as me. We would never leave the house, and we’d spend all our time Googling each other’s symptoms on the computer and wringing our hands. We’d have to get Meals on Wheels or something to deliver our dinner.
The morning of the scan, Kevin gave me a kiss, told me not to fret, and suggested I “have fun getting your scan on” and left for work. As I laughed, I realized that without him, my hypochondria would make my life a lot more miserable. And so once again I am so grateful he is in my life. Thanks, Kevin.
PS In case you’re wondering, the CT scan showed there is absolutely nothing wrong with me other than the fact that I have an irregularly shaped head that is slightly bigger on one side than the other. Hmm. Do you think that’s a symptom of anything?