So, I don't have brain cancer

According to my neurologist, I'm clean as a whistle.

In case you didn't know, a few months ago, I went to the neurologist complaining of headaches. He said it could be one of three things: my sleep apnea, a poor glasses prescription, or a giant, pulsing, tomato-sized tumor in the center of my brain.

I went to the sleep doctor and she said: yes, I do have sleep apnea. I trusted her, even though she was a woman, because according to science women and men are equal.

I went to the eye doctor and he said: yes, I do have a poor prescription.

Finally, I went to get an MRI and my neurologist said: no, I don't have a giant, pulsing, tomato-sized tumor in my head.

I'm disappointed about this for a few reasons:

1) I'm a drama queen. Imagine how much sympathy I could elicit with an inoperable brain tumor. Seriously, I'd never have to worry about a social misstep again ("Oh, I'm sorry that I made a retard joke and your brother is 'special' Larry, but, you know, I'm dying from brain cancer, so it's a little hard for me to worry about being politcally correct, okay!?")

2) There's always the chance that the brain tumor isn't just a kill-you kind of cancer, but that it's a Phenomenon type cancer that gives me super powers before I die. I mean, we all have to die, but how many of us get to die knowing that we learned Portuguese in a truck ride or that we were able to name mammals alphabetically with Brent Spiner?

3) As many of you know, I'm about to become a father. Dying of a brain tumor is a hell of a lot easier than packing for Mexico and it doesn't even look like you're shirking your responsibilities.

4) I'm not that attached to being alive anywho. I've already reproduced. I leave behind a legacy of like 3 unmade screenplays and about four thousand handjob jokes. What more can a man ask for in a single lifetime? I mean, I don't want to be greedy.

Of course I say a lot of this with my tongue firmly in my cheek -- I have to put that caveat because it's likely my wife will read this blog and she takes this shit seriously, so if I ever want to have her tongue in my cheek again... well, you understand.

So, if you were worried, you can stop worrying. I am upping my cell-phone usage though. There's always next year.