What I want my tombstone to say when I die of encephalitis next week

Here lies Simon Rich, 1984–2016. He died of encephalitis. In the days leading up to his death, his friends made the following comments:

JOSH: Simon, relax, there’s no way you have encephalitis.

ROB: That looks like a regular mosquito bite to me. I really wouldn’t worry if I were you.

KYLE: Just because you saw something on the news about encephalitis, doesn’t mean you have encephalitis. I mean, there have only been, like, five cases in the entire country.

JAKE: Jesus, Simon, will you stop talking about encephalitis?

MONICA: Yeah, it looks swollen, but that’s just because you’ve been poking at it all day, like a crazy person.

AZHAR: Don’t take this the wrong way, Simon, but I think this whole thing might be psychological. You’ve been kind of depressed lately and I think you’re using this encephalitis thing as a way to distract yourself from all of the things that you’re really afraid of. You know what I mean?

BRENT: Don’t look it up on Wikipedia, you’re just going to freak yourself out.

MATT: Dude, it’s two in the morning. I don’t care what Wikipedia said. Listen, if you’re really that scared about it, you should go see a doctor, okay?

DOCTOR MURPHY: Looks like we’ve got a little case of hypochondria on our hands! (Laughs.)

JAKE: You saw a doctor? Good, now we can finally move on.