i doubt it's serious

When you have a friend who is an unrepentant hypochondriac, you are constantly saying things like:

It's not your prostate, Emily.
No, I don't think you can get a tapeworm from Grape Nuts.
Just because you couldn't think of your cousin's name, doesn't mean you have Alzheimers.
It's impossible to O.D. on anti-oxidants.

So, when your hypochondriac friend tells you she thinks she has cancer, you quite confidently say something to the effect of:

You don't have cancer. Look, if you have cancer, I will shave my head in solidarity with you during chemo. Okay?

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Thankfully, Emily is incredibly forgiving and understanding... and she's just as vain as I am. She isn't going to hold me to it. I hate to admit how scared I was when I realized (weeks after the fateful offer and the unexpected results of her tests) I might have to follow through. I considered never mentioning it again. I considered going through with it. I finally settled on NOT going through with it and mentioning it.

Me: So, you remember how a couple of weeks ago, I said that if you really had cancer...

Her: Oh gah, you're not really going to do that, are you?

Me: Ummm, don't I have to?

Her: No. I wouldn't do it for you.

And that was all I needed to hear.

It seems horribly unfair, though. She clearly has the superior head of hair. I've thought about shaving my head a million times, thinking I'd rather just start over than try to make sense of this crap. While Emily has thick, shiny, luxurious locks that look good even after three days of no washing, I have the hair of a Chinese Crested. But I guess cancer doesn't really care how rad your hair is before it decides to take up residence in your ta-tas and start blowing stuff up.

Emily, if it were possible for you to outsource your side effects, I would totally take that one. Like Carrie Underwood says, "It Shoulda Been Me." I don't think Carrie Underwood actually says that, but it seems like something she'd say, doesn't it?