When I worked in advertising, I was regularly educated on the diseases for which my client provided medicines. One afternoon, while learning of an inhaled form of insulin, I became lightheaded. I needed to leave the meeting, felt the sweats coming on, and excused myself promptly. It had nothing to do with the drug education and everything to do with my slightly psycho brain.
Like a medical student, every month I was convinced I was carrying a different disease, or hosting a dormant condition. That month, I was quite certain, I’d be diagnosed with type II diabetes… someday. I got the sweats and felt shortness of breath, right there in the meeting. I was convinced I had the ‘beeties. So I encourage Linus to lick my toes, ya know, while I’ve still got ’em.
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I'm a huge hypchondriac, I think I have every single disease out there. A lump on my head? Immediately I think "CANCER"—-sad to say, it was only a huge zit that formed in the back of my head. Great. I went to the ER for an acne problem. How embarrassing!
I feel ya with this post! Question though—-have you seen a doctor? They say hypchondracs live longer than normal everyday people who don't check twice about their health. I feel fortunate. Or should I? Hmm.
I was in a meeting just two hours ago in which a client was discussing some new and fantastic cardiac imaging technology that was apparently featured on the cover of Time Magazine last week. And I swear — As he was speaking, I thought I was having chest pains.
Every time you take out the Google ads, I like your blog better. :-)
I've been convinced I would die of cancer since I was in kindergarten. That fear only dissipated in high school when I was diagnosed with lupus – I had something else to worry about so the imaginary diseases didn't bother me as much. Now though, after seven years of living with a real disease, my mind races every time I see a new symptom for cancer or diabetes. "That's me! I must have colon cancer!" when in actuality it is simply the olestra in the fat free chips I bought giving me cramps. I'm not sure if I'll ever be happy with the one disease I do have. I find myself crying myself to sleep some nights thinking about how I'd say goodbye to the ones I love once diagnosed with cancer. This can't be healthy behaviour, but it's nice to know I'm not the only one who's paranoid.
I almost peed my pants when you told us about the 'betes. Both times.
There's a little bit of hypochondriac in all of us…
okay…call me crazy but I do that too!
Those things are such self-fulfilling prophecy… you have to think positively about it. There is a name for this thing you and I have, it is called hypochondria.
It is funny that you tell your pup that… I will only be able to think about 'betes now when my foot-fetish chihuahua comes a callin'.
Peace – Loving the site!
One question – you must not be worried about current/potential employers finding out your shit?
Maybe I'm crazy, and this has nothing to do with what you've written, but are you slowly beginning to redesign the blog? just curious. Or maybe it's just my computer.
A fellow hypochondriac, I too have had my invented illnesses (not the least of which was anal itching because I truly believed I had contracted pin
worms from the many toddlers in my life….and then later discovered that the toddlers and I did not have pinworms at all). However, when a doctor recently examined me and mentioned a "nodule," I blew it off and said, "there's nothing wrong with me…. must be a fluke." Which this time it was not.
I once thought I had mono for a whole year. Turns out I was just really bored.
-Wayne Campbell
Ok, I have to admit I am having way more fun reading your written works than I have a right to! I read your entries faithfully every other day just so I can sit in my chair just a little bit longer than I should. Your actions and/or reactions to thoughts or experiences keep me on edge coming back for more like a cliff hanger on a soap opera. This is much better! Your life is real, and your thoughts are real…. none of the mumbo jumbo on the soapies on t.v. It makes me reflect on my own life, to take action or sit back and wait a little bit longer. Yes I am a muller. I have to mull things over and over…analzye it adnauseam. In so many ways I see a mirrored image between your entries and my life. Yet you do a better job of putting it all into words! Thanks
Instead of wasting time letting your toes get licked, you should have called your broker to buy the stocks. They are all soaring today on the fda news that inhaled insulin is ok. You would be rich and cute; what a combo!!
Been there.
I've had brain cancer when I couldn't find the coordinating bump on the opposing side of my scalp. Colon cancer when I crapped out a piece of undigested red pepper that I thought was a bloody stool. Testicular cancer after watching a bio on Lance Armstrong (the fact that his nuts were the size of grapefruits didn't dissuade me).AIDS despite being a virgin (freshman in HS). Skin cancer from a pimple that would not go away.
It's an irrational fear of impending doom. After 4 years of therapy I finally learned to say fcuk it. Anyone who tells you life is good is lying and should be smacked. Life is hard and therefore should be enjoyed at every waking moment. It's this realization that stopped me from examing the toilet after each crap.
I'm an advertising copywriter, and I do the same thing! I'm the type that never goes to the doctor, blah blah blah… but we've got a few healthcare clients, and when you write about all these problems, you can't help but think you must have some of them. Oddly enough, type 2 diabetes is the affliction that seems to fit me best, too. Melanoma is my new obsession, however. After writing about it this morning, I'm almost certain this mole on my arm – which looked normal yesterday – is suddenly mutated and cancerous. Ahhh…..
Only when I realized 'betes was pronounced "beeties" did the new ADA slogans flood in:
Too many sweeties'll give you the 'betes.
Avoid the 'betes to keep both your feeties.
Thanks to your 'betes, cuts heal slowies, not speedies.
Once you come down with the 'betes, lay off the carbs and mangia more meaties.
When your pancreas balks at bodily treaties you can always seek solace at your fav'rite club 'Betes.
Sorry to here about your 'betes. I'm sure I'm developing meth mouth, not from doing meth but from too much coffe and hyper-awareness each time my teeth touch.
Don't sweat it. Lewis Black thought he had 'betes too, after reading a 20 page article about it in time, and he's more brillant than most. So psychosymatic illinesses are normal. I'm a high-risk canidate myself. Now, where did I hide that pizza?
it's often said that life is strange but compared to what?
it's just that the opening up and showing us your private stuff seems to give your life a "crazy" tint. stuff like that is what probably 90 percent of us do.