The Angina Monologues

Last week, I gamboled to the local Mega Pharmacy to pick up a medic alert badge.  In case you're in a coma, this bit of medical jewelery lets the EMT folks know that you have an allergy to peanut butter or Pop Tarts. Well, I went in looking for the perfect one and decided -- based on my own internal body scan -- that I would take all of them.  I then selected a  single all-purpose one, Hypochondriac. 

I blame my hypochondria on Jim Fixx.  Remember him? James F. Fixx authored The Complete Book of Running, at the time of its publication in 1977 the best-selling non-fiction hardcover book ever. Fixx trumpeted the health benefits of running. After starting to jog at age 35, he quit smoking and shed 50 pounds. Yet at age 52, Fixx collapsed while running on a tree-shaded road in Vermont. He was found lying beside the road, dead of a heart attack.

Well, I thought if the Boston beacon of health could be felled, what about the rest of us?  Yes, I'm convinced hypochondria can kill you.  For example, a few weeks ago, I thought I had Cancrum  Oris.  It's kinda like gangrene of the mouth.  The sores spread through the skin that it actually creates a hole right through the jaw. It's a like having a window view of your teeth.  Fortunately for me, it was just a piece of  iceburg lettuce stuck to my chin.

Last year, I thought I had something called Progeria -- a genetic disorder which makes you look 30 or 40 years older than you are.  Kinda like Lee Majors or my friend Craig Bowlus.  Craig's hair went grey right after college and now he's affectionately called the Silver Ferret.  Actually, it was my magnifying mirror getting back at me for blogging about it in a previous blog. (See Aging Disgracefully).

Now every flight from a foreign country into JFK Airport, seems to carry a passenger that's eating some kind of ebola-based fruit.  And the worse the disease, the greater the chance it's named after some scientist.  Like Creutzfeld-Jakob Disease.  Basically, it's an affliction in which your brain is eaten away by proteins until it resembles a sponge.  I was in the middle of writing "Mad Cow -- The Ballet" when I thought I was  struck down by this vicious disease.  The ER doc told me, it was just a case of stage fright. 

Boy, I wish they hadn't listed the symptoms of a heart attack.  Pain the the jaw, chest pain and a craving for kumquats.  So I have purchased the in- home defibrillator, a vat of aspirin, and digitalis leaf.  Now I'm worried about macular degeneration   -- cause I can't find my medic alert badge.

Good health to you all.   (Cough)