Monday, 30 January 2012

Hypochondriac


I enter the room.
Paleozoic.
Late.
Late Paleozoic.

Nervous.
Confused.
Did I misdiagnose the self diagnosis?
Did I imagine it all?

Perhaps this is just normal.

Everyone waits their turn.
Silent. Pensive.
Are they too, imagining worst case scenarios?
Am I uncommon?

I get nervous.
As if the schoolmaster is about to deliver the bad news.
I failed.
Health check failed.

I’ve had cancer three times in the last half hour,
AIDS, insomnia, rabies and a mild condition of yellow fever.
And the worst is yet to come, when I enter that room and (almost in tears) deliver my diagnosis and the doctor confirms that indeed, I am a hypochondriac…


2 comments:

lizette said...

Que puedo decir? Just you are right!! ja,ja,ja, excelente me gustó la reflexión ya lo había pensado pero no tengo la facultad de poner las palabras tan coreográficamente. Te faltó la parte en la que pasás la depre antes de tu muerte. Y el sufrimiento de tu pobre madre. Buen argumento para una obra de teatro.

sin rostro no hay firma ☾ ☼ said...

... suele pasar...