I have been known to be somewhat of a medical hypochondriac. I first started thinking I had a brain tumor in high school, because obviously having a headache equals brain tumor. I used to check my eyes in the mirror to make sure my pupils were the same size, and anytime I smelled something burning I thought it was a result of the tumor. The fact that I’m still alive leads me to believe I may have been a smidge paranoid and perhaps someone had just burnt their toast.
Once I had access to the internet, I started looking up every odd pain or random symptom and freaking myself out thoroughly. I had a lot of time on my hands in college and convinced myself I had various cancers, thyroid disease, MS, and who knows what else. One again, still alive.
Now it’s even worse. Now I have a BABY and anytime she deviates from her normal behavior or makes a new sound or feels slightly warm, I convince myself there’s something wrong with her. She hasn’t pooped since Monday – her bowels must be blocked and her innards are going to explode. She’s sleeping more than usual – she must be sick. I have taken something as desirable as her actually SLEEPING and instead of enjoying some me-time I spend it worrying that something is wrong with her. Something is wrong with ME!
I try not to be this way. I’ve stopped obsessively taking her temperature. I just feel like I’m going to be the crazy lady who covers her house in protective padding and never lets her kid climb on things and other kids will make fun of her because I make her wear a helmet on the school bus and a face mask in class to avoid germs. I’m sure if she’s actually sick it will be pretty obvious. Just like if I actually had a brain tumor 12 years ago it would have shown itself by now. I realize it’s irrational but I can’t stop the crazy.
Ugh. This is why I drink at night.
