Well, maybe I can’t prove I have monkey pox or even the West Nile virus. I could have both. I feel a case of SARS coming on too. You’ll all be sorry after I’m gone, by the way. Cough. Cough.
O.k., maybe it’s not monkey pox. But, I do have a rash, and although it doesn’t itch yet, it could start itching any minute now.
I really am a mild hypochondriac. I say mild because I don’t believe I have all those diseases, yet there is a little part of me that is certain I will get them and then be misdiagnosed.
They’ll only figure out what it was I really had after the inevitable autopsy takes place. Then my incompetent doctor will show up at my funeral and say to Michael, “I’m so sorry for your loss. I never even thought to test her for that, because it’s so very rare. . . My bad.”
Oh, I know this will happen. It’s just a matter of time.