My father, the hypochondriac

My father has decided he has cancer. He has a pain in his side, so it MUST be cancer. Of course. What else would it be?

Me: “Dad, it’s probably NOT cancer.”

Dad: “I should be dead already. It has to be cancer.”

Me: “Dad, it’s probably not cancer.”

Dad: “What, you think you’re a doctor?”

Me: “Have you seen a doctor?”

Dad: “No, but I know it’s cancer.”

Me: “Go see a doctor and call me when you have an official diagnosis.”

Dad: “You just don’t care about me, do you?”

Me: AAAAAUUUUUGGGHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!