FOC

FOD is easily confused with FOC, because the two diseases share many symptoms. All of a sudden I realized: the chances of dying on the operating table? Slim. Less than the chances of my dog chewing off my left eye because she thinks she sees a biscuit reflected in my pupil. That’s what makes FOC such a much more dangerous condition.

C is more mainstream than D. It also comes right before D in the alphabet. Coincidence? I don’t think so. C is everywhere, so it stands to reason it might be in me.

There was that time I spilled the paint stripper all over myself. Or when I slept on the tail pipe side of the overnight video bus to Tiruchengode. Or the mosquito coils I burned during the other 130 nights I was there. I painted the house without opening the windows. Maybe it's all the Walmart chicken I’ve been eating. I do wear my ipod right over my left ovary. Tupperware. It took months for all the epoxy to come off my hands after I repaired those boats. I didn’t take my multi-vitamins last February. My mother smoked when she was pregnant with me. I can’t afford to buy the organic brands anymore. I have nothing to breastfeed. The stuff that cleans the mold off the bathroom ceiling always ricochets back into my face when I spray it. Wait, I have to take a sip of my French spring water from my evian bottle before I apply Zoe’s flea medicine. Why is furniture from IKEA always so heavy? I think some of the Windex got on my toothbrush when I cleaned the bathroom mirror. Anxiety is a breeding ground for free radicals.

But… I look better with a tan.