Thursday, October 11, 2007

Hypochondriacs Unite!

I know I'm not the only person who does this. I have been convinced since my teens that I would die a hideous cancer death. Initially I thought it was the dodgy microwave that would do me in. That may still turn out to be the case but I think now that my fate is sealed by all you gobshites and your mobile phones. The day I can sue for second-hand mobilisation, I'll see you all in court.

As a bloke, my chance of getting cancer is one in two.

1 in 2 (for those of you who couldn't take the time to read it in words).

I have just as high a chance of getting cancer as not getting it. For you ladies, it's one in three. Still high enough to be pretty damn scary. Most form of cancers, you won't even know before it's too late. I could (and probably do) have bowel cancer right now and wouldn't know about it. Especially as a side effect of many anti-depressants is gastrinal bleeding. You could shit blood and think it's just a side effect. Two months later you're dead.

One in two. I'm doomed.

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