by Rix Quinn
Let me be frank with you…Although Frank is not my name. I am a hypochondriac, and I have been since childhood.
My dad – who lived to be 102 – was also a hypochondriac, and that contributed to his longevity. He claimed that “Feeling good may be the first sign of feeling bad.”
I was surprised when I got a call from a company offering me a free health assessment. I go to several doctors each year, but I can never tell when a specific body part will need special attention.
I agreed to the offer. The lady started by asking general questions, such as age, height, and weight. Then I asked her my first question. “What is the typical state of health for a male my age?”
“Easy answer,” she said. “It’s somewhere in the range between ‘declining’ and ‘comatose.’”
She then asked me about my daily lifestyle and habits. I do not drink or smoke, eat too much, stay out late, run around with party people, pat wild or rabid animals, engage in contact sports, or jump out of planes.
Every day, I am a colossal bore. Once, one of my cousins came over for dinner, and she fell asleep in her soup bowl while I discussed my collection of rocks shaped like animals.
At the end of the survey, the lady told me I could expect to live at least ten more years. She offered me the chance to sign up for a diet and fitness plan.
But I declined. I am extremely satisfied with my current life, and I don’t believe in changing anything but the daily calendar pages and my bed sheets.
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