I’m at that age where you think every pain is terminal cancer.
Cracked nail? Cancer.
Aching knee? Cancer.
Overly tired? Probably cancer.
To be fair, there was a time when I did have the ‘big C’ but that was long ago, caught early and I‘ve been all clear for over 20 years.
However when I saw a groove appear in my head – literally in the top of the skull – I feared the worst.
Consulting Dr Google didn’t help, with diagnosis ranging from my skull caving in to the cliched impending brain tumour.
Just as I was about to start planning my goodbyes, Jill looks at me and says, “You know it’s from your glasses when you rest them on top of your head when you’re reading” … and suddenly life is full of colour and optimism and our life insurance doesn’t get cancelled.
So as bad as your Monday may feel, be grateful you don’t have to work with me and my moronic self diagnosis.
Of course, if you read this and you do work with me, then I have no sympathy for you.