ABSTRACT
All this time, what was I doing about my own health? Nothing. Hey, there was nothing wrong with me. Well, I vividly recall one memorable night, probably in 1986, when I noticed a strange-looking brown patch on my arm. I didn't remember doing anything to myself, and it had mysteriously appeared overnight... I spent an entire night panicking, pacing around the apartment, and going to pieces. By morning, I had convinced myself that it was from an unnoticed spatter of the paint stripper I'd been using a couple of days previously, and indeed, about three days later, the brown patch flaked off, an ordinary scab, and I was able to laugh at my all-night terror. But it's no laughing matter when it's happening. Death was sitting on my shoulder, grinning at me.
