Chapter 1
Some-guy’s-last-name-or-hard-to-pronounce-word disease (SGLNHPWD) affects between 10 and 12 people every year, including me, the narrator of this memoir who you know nothing about and will continue to know very little about for the whole book. You’ll learn a lot about SGLNHPWD, though.
Chapter 2
I’ll never forget what my doctor said when he told me I had SGLNHPWD.
He said, “You have SGLNHPWD.”
Needless to say, I was shocked! How could an ordinary person like me end up with a chronic illness like SGLNHPWD? I thought chronic illnesses were reserved for pimps, professional puppy killers, and Comcast call center employees.
Though I feel lucky to have been diagnosed at all, as only one lab in the world has developed a test for SGLNHPWD (a combined stool, urine, blood, IQ, and personality test—ten grand out of pocket), and this test has a 98% false negative rate. So, it takes 75 years on average to get a SGLNHPWD diagnosis.
Chapter 3
This chapter goes back to my childhood, before being diagnosed with SGLNHPWD. I describe my obsession with playing Operation as a way of foreshadowing the life of medical malady I will eventually lead. Despite detailing events that took place decades ago, this chapter is entirely in present tense, for heightened narrative suspense.
Chapter 4
This chapter is fifty pages long, and lists all reported symptoms of SGLNHPWD including but not limited to nausea, heartburn, indigestion, upset stomach, diarrhea, low libido, crazy high libido, forgetfulness, fatigue, sneezing, coughing, laughing, crying, and indecision over what to watch next on Netflix. By the end of it, you’ll be pretty sure you have SGLNHPWD. Lucky for you, I include that lab’s phone number in the footnotes.
Chapter 5
Since we’re thoroughly in the weeds now, I might as well tell you the entire known history of SGLNHPWD, which I’ve assembled from both a short Wikipedia article with no citations and the SGLNHPWD subreddit.
Did you know that the earliest recorded cases of SGLNHPWD were in ancient Egypt? They didn’t call it SGLNHPWD back then, obviously, but archaeologists have discovered ancient papyri detailing a strange illness with similar symptoms. According to these records, Egyptians treated the disease by putting patients on the waitlist for the empire’s only SGLNHPWD specialist until their insurance policies inevitably dropped him from their list of in-network providers, forcing the patients to set up GoFundMe pages to pay the out-of-pocket costs.
Many celebrities and/or historical figures have had SGLNHPWD, including Vincent van Gogh, Elvis Presley, John F. Kennedy, and Jesus Christ. Maybe some women, too, but it’s hard to know for sure because, according to all of my doctors, women are drug-seeking liars.
Chapter 6
In this chapter, I talk vaguely about how my loosely-held religious beliefs tenuously relate to my illness, to appeal to the church-lady book club crowd.
Chapter 7
This chapter details a painful and/or otherwise harrowing medical procedure I’ve endured, to counterbalance all of the spiritual stuff from the previous chapter, and to appeal to the few men who have read this far.
Chapter 8
Toronumu-numab. Frerienze faxinolol. Biogenetic aminoglobulins. Quli-huli-pret. Ridicular hyperbotomy. These are all the medications/treatments I’ve tried for SGLNHPWD, and I’m going to tell you about them and their side effects in excruciating detail because, by this point, I’ve forgotten this is a memoir and not a medical textbook.
Chapter 9
Acupuncture. Snake venom. Bee venom. Horse venom. Rolfing. ROFLing. Magic mushrooms. Mushroom powder lattes. Intermittent fasting. Transcendental meditation. Leeches. Turmeric. A pillow shaped like a tuba. These are all the alternative treatments for SGLNHPWD I’ve tried, most of which I learned about from scrolling Instagram. I think some of them are helping a little bit so I decide to stick with all of them, just in case.
Chapters 10-12
I now write a lot about the meaning of life, and of suffering, but come to no real conclusions about either. I also copy-paste all of the notes from my therapy sessions into these chapters.
Chapter 13
Every sentence in this chapter starts with “I” or “my.”
Chapter 14
I cure my SGLNHPWD!
Chapter 15
Oops, just kidding. One side effect of toronumu-numab is mistakenly thinking you’re cured. Another is diarrhea.
Chapter 16
I decide I’m at peace with never feeling better. The peacemaking process involves a grand spiritual journey beginning with my retreat to a vegan commune I found on Airbnb, where I learn to talk to sparrows, and culminating in the discovery of a Bible verse embroidered onto a throw pillow at a Christian bookstore. But actually, I’m forcing myself to accept my entirely unacceptable disease so I can finish this darn book on a happy note and self-publish it on Kindle already. My mom is dying to read it.
Chapter 17
What chronic illness story would be complete without the founding of a non-profit? After all, this is America, where even sick people have to be productive. My charity is called The Rainbow of Hope for Healing Encircled by Helping, Loving Hands (RaHoHeEnHeLoHa). RaHoHeEnHeLoHa gives Chinese finger traps to kids affected by SGLNHPWD. At RaHoHeEnHeLoHa, we believe that laughter can bring hope and healing to a child, but cheap toys are, well…cheaper, and probably just as helpful.
You can donate to RaHoHeEnHeLoHa through our website, by hosting a bake sale at your church, or by attending one of U2’s many RaHoHeEnHeLoHa benefit concerts. Each $100 donation delivers a Chinese finger trap to a child in need, and reduces our administrative costs by $99.50.
Chapter 18
Will I ever be cured of my SGLNHPWD? I don’t know. But I don’t need there to be a cure, not as long as I have love. And laughter. And friendship. And huge profits from the sales of this memoir.
Also, drugs. Because I am a woman.
🧠 🧠 🧠
Thanks to (writer of the humor newsletter
) for lots of help with editing this piece.Thanks also to , , and Kat Foley for their thoughtful feedback.
Love it...it would be funny to see what happened if you actually sent it out as a book proposal.
Is it bad I kind of want to read it? Except all the boring stuff you copied from Wikipedia, obviously.