Yet another crisis

The wife had a CT scan yesterday. The results were seriously concerning.

The wife has a major health crisis every six or seven years. The CT scan wasn't conclusive of anything, but she has convinced herself that it's cancer; she has been trying to convince herself she has cancer again since the last time.

And she's as happy as a clam, because nothing makes a hypochondriac happier than them actually finding something really wrong.

And somehow I'm the one that's dying.