“It is a bug bite.” Said the doctor. “You know if you keep coming in here for every lump or bump, one day I am going to find something.”
“So you mean there is something in me you haven’t found?” The hypochondriac said. “Oh God I am going to die. I am dying.”
“Calm down man. We are all dying–act accordingly.”
“What do you mean act accordingly, doctor? How am I suppose to do that?”
“Just go live life.”
“How do I do that?” Asked the hypochondriac.
“Christ, you are in a state. I tell you what, when you exit my office, which way do you go to go home, left or Right?”
“Then go left.”