It was 2006. I was playing a lot of racquetball and my shoulder hurts so I go into the doctor, who was a friend of mine, for a cortisone shot. I literally have one foot out the door and his office manager - Victoria, who's now my wife - says, "Why don't you get a blood test, just to see how your cholesterol is?" I'd never had a blood test. He calls two weeks later and says, "Your white blood-cell count is 77,000." I told him, "I don't know what that means. I'm a sandwich maker." He says it means either I have a severe infection or the early stages of leukemia.