“You’ll Catch Your Death of Cold.” Really. (But Not Really.) — Part One

As many of my devout readers are undoubtedly aware, there has been an overwhelming silence emanating from me and this blog for the past couple of weeks. And, as these same followers also are certainly aware, I always have something to say about pretty much everything so such a silence is quite atypical for me. So, pray tell, what caused this lack of pontification from me? To put it simply, I thought I was on death’s doorstep for several days. It turns out that I was actually, however, suffering from what is probably best classified as a cold (and which still has me feeling quite suboptimal). But I think it is a fair question of you, the reader, to wonder how something as admittedly annoying but as non-lethal as the common cold could cause one to think that Charon’s canoe was being docked in my front yard.
For starters, I think it is only appropriate for me to state that I am not a hypochondriac. I am related to a number of such people, and I know I am not like that. Plus, the vernacular usage of the term implies an irrational obsession with illness and maladies in general. Applying that understanding of the term, I am pretty sure that it is impossible to be simultaneously a hypochondriac and one with cancer. I assert this because, rather unfortunately, there is no illness, ache, pain, sniffle or cough that one living with cancer could readily dismiss as unimportant or even simply uninteresting. Particularly when one has a chronic (i.e., incurable) form of cancer, constant vigilance regarding one’s health is not only prudent but often mandatory. In fact, a better term for those of us with cancer would be hyperchondriac because no matter how much attention we pay to our health, we cannot be as knowledgeable about our badly-behaving bodies as would be ideal. (I note that Merriam-Webster does not recognize hyperchondriac as a term, but Urban Dictionary does. Let’s get into the 21st century, M-W!)
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