Hypochondriac

Everyone knows that I am not the hypochondriac in my relationship. Unless of course I am. Maybe it is just normal if you are not a medical professional to get on the internet and self-diagnose with the worst possible affliction that matches your symptoms. Because of course you are dying. Always, always dying of the thing that will kill you the most painfully and the quickest. Maybe I am a worse hypochondriac because I am in the closet. At least my significant other makes no bones about demanding an endoscopy. But then there I was at the ER today. Today in the middle of the day when I clearly was not having an emergency. I was dropped off out front and walked in. It was the culmination of two days of symptom madness with contributing circumstances. There’s work, which has been more stressful than usual. There’s the as yet unknown source of the bites I have woken up with the past two mornings. And there’s the fact that it is an off-the-hormones week for pre-menopausal symptoms. All of these things led to me strolling into the ER this morning to discuss the lovely purple spot that appeared under my eye on Sunday morning.

I noticed it after I had gone running. I went to take a shower, looked in the mirror and there it was. Like a bruise. Very purple. It did not hurt. It did not blanch (this is a word I learned at the ER today which means when you press it, the color doesn’t subside, blanch). I kind of freaked out. There had been no trauma to my eye. No poking or prodding. Banging or slamming the day before. Yet, there it was, a giant purple spot. It kind of freaked me out. So I was the second person at the Minute Clinic on Sunday morning. The lovely practitioner was sweet but really had no diagnosis for me. In fact, she did not even log in the visit. She did tell me that she didn’t think it was emergent and that I should just go to my doctor the next day. photo

I called this morning to make an appointment. One of the problems with this, is that I don’t really love my PCP. My significant other asked why I just don’t find a new one but it is like dating. Kind of awful and you have to go through more than one to find the right one. So I’ve kind of given up. I have one. I don’t love her but she is there when I need to see her. I made an appointment and headed to work. And then there I was at work and my head was weird, like it gets sometimes when I am off hormones. And my eyes were feeling sensitive to light. And I was feeling nauseous. And then I left and went home and decided that I could not wait to see my doctor. So I called my significant other and went to the ER. I understand why people like the ER, there is a comfort there. It makes you feel like if it all goes south, you are in the right place.

My ER doctor was cute. In a Daniel Kim kind of way. He was part of the ER team who thought that I was off my rocker. Being there in the middle of the morning and not having an emergency. Today I was part of the problem. I can admit that. It is what it is. The spot on my face is a bruise. It is an unexplainable, not attributed to brain hemorrhage, run of the mill bruise. And, really I am thankful, that it is just a bruise. Because I know people. People who went for something and it turned out to not be nothing. And I am always, always ever so grateful that my hypochondriac something is really nothing. Because nothing beats nothing.

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About nematomorph

Living like the rich and famous, splitting time between Hawaii and New York.
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