Fearless?

I used to think that when the time came, I would accept death.
Instead I found out I'm a hypochondriac among other things.

I'm embarrassed to be even writing this down. Occasionally between typing these words I am burying my face in my hands and squealing with dismay. Here it goes.
A couple of nights ago, events transpired and the side of my head got accidentally kneed. Needless (kneedless?) to say it hurt but nothing life-threatening. Or so I thought. Later, back at my apartment, as I began to settle down for bed, I felt a wave of dizziness, nausea, and the side of my head started throbbing. Immediately my mind recalled the case of Natasha Richardson. She hit her head while skiing and hours later she was dead. I saw my life flash before my eyes and instead of recognizing this as a rare occurance, I consulted Google and Web MD, which are the patron saints of hypochondriac.

I typed in "Natasha Richardson death" and found "epidural hematoma".
According to Wikipedia, which everyone agrees is the authority on everything, an epidural hematoma "is a type of traumatic brain injury (TBI) in which a buildup of blood occurs between the dura mater (the tough outer membrane of the central nervous system) and the skull...Epidural hematoma commonly results from a blow to the side of the head". Ding ding ding. Symptoms of an epidural hematoma: dizziness, headache, and nausea. We've got a winner.

Seized with fear, I headed to the emergency room with my roommate. Faced with my impending death, I reflected on my regrets and the brevity of my life. "I don't want to die", I moaned to my ever so patient roommate. Long story short, the medical staff of Marina Del Ray found no head trauma. In fact, I was healthy as a horse, albeit a foolish, silly horse. Turns out, I'm no more courageous or stalwart as the next person. In fact, had I lived during the Spanish Inquisition, I probably would have sang like a canary in hopes of clinging to life.

I guess the deaths of Michael Jackson, Billy Mays, and Farrah Fawcett affected me more than I'd like to admit. Moral of the story? Life is short, folks, so enjoy it. You never know when your number will be called.

Happy moment of 7/4: The night's festivities provided too much excitement to sleep so I saw my first sunrise.