I've been a hypochondriac since I was nine years old. I had hoofed it down to some folks house who had a tv and watched a medical show about a guy who had to have a cancer removed. Having never seen anything like that, I was of course stricken by the time I got home and in bed. If anyone would have been around I would have said goodbye. Of course I survived, but barely. As the years passed, I had about every malady known to man at one time or another. I never let any of my hypochondria keep me from working or enjoying life, but I pretty much had something all of the time. Unlike most hypochondriacs I suffered my sickness in silence, but I was just about a goner for years. I had foretold my own passing at 56 years of age because most of the men in my family died by that age. When I didn't die, I realized I was truly a functioning hypochondriac. Since I had already passed the target age to die, I thought man, I'm getting tired of always having some rare disease, and just stopped. Now and then I get a touch of it, but in a few days it's forgotten. Hypochondria the disease that kills, well maybe not kills but worries you to death.