The New Yorker nails the essence of the malady of imagined maladies with this book review.
"For example, my therapist tells me that to worry unceasingly about
getting cancer is as irrational as worrying about getting hit by a bus
on Flatbush Avenue. In fact, I am terrified of getting hit by a bus on
Flatbush Avenue, and I think he is the madman for being so cavalier on
the subject. Has he been out there recently? Belling says that
hypochondria is 'always ironic,' by which she means that, despite all
its convolutions, hypochondria is always right. You will get sick and
die. The question is only when and how. The bus is coming."
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