I don't have cancer

When I was in D.C. 2 weeks ago, I developed a very large bruise on my thigh. I say very large because it is bigger than my whole hand. I say developed because I don't recall running into anything or hurting myself in any way. Unfortunately I had just finished the novel "My Sister's Keeper", which is about a girl with leukemia. I was convinced that I was dying of cancer (unexplained bruising is a symptom of leukemia). I rushed to the doctor as soon as I returned to L.A.

"I have cancer!!!" I exclaimed, pointing to the bruise.
"You have a bruise," replied the doctor.
"I didn't run into anything! It's definitely leukemia!" I returned.
"Looks like a bruise to me," said the doctor.

He finally agreed to do a blood test, just to be sure. Still convinced I was dying, I waited and waited for the results. I called today to find out why they hadn't called me yet. Turns out that they don't call if you aren't dying. The whole 'no news is good news' thing, I guess. At what point was I supposed to feel comforted by the lack of phone call? There are hundreds of reasons why there could have been a delay in testing my blood, I thought of them. At any rate, I am not dying, it was just a bruise. Now I am concerned about my mental health. How did I hit my leg so hard that it left a black and purple mark the size of my hand and not notice it. I don't even bruise easily. I must be losing it.

And no, I am not a hypochondriac. At least not usually.