Fun With Hypochondria

I got the lab results back from the blood-work I had done before the new year and there is nothing of consequence to report. There is nothing to indicate the presence of thyroid disease or pre-menapause -- nothing that would explain why I can go to the mailbox in 29-degree weather with only a t-shirt and shorts on and still complain about how balmy it is outside.

So, while my first reaction to the "good" news was one of relief, it was quickly followed by the thought that obviously I must have some terrible disease that science has yet to discover. Maybe they will even name this new as-yet-discovered disease after me!

I can picture it now...someday in the not-so-distant-future, people will be huddled around a tragically sickly person lying in a hospital bed speaking in the low tone you use when huddled around a tragically sickly person lying in a hospital bed.

"What did the doctor say?" Whispered so as not to bother the tragically sickly person.

"They said it was...(dramatic pause and even lower dip in the voice)...The Regina."

"Oh, no!" Gasp followed by sad shake of the head. "How tragic."

Well, until that happens, I thought I'd share some of my past adventures in the world of hypochondria. Enjoy...



The Heart Cancer
July 18, 2000

Are you a hypochondriac if you really are dying?

My heart has been behaving strangely lately. It’s skipping beats that I’m sure it shouldn’t miss, and occasionally adding in an extra one where I’m sure an extra one isn’t called for. And don’t go telling me it’s a panic attack or something wussy like that. I’ve had those before and I know what they are like. No, I’m pretty sure that this time it’s the heart cancer.

I suffer from a new ailment almost every week. That’s close to 52 ailments a year for anyone who’s counting. Sure, sometimes I just develop the same one over and over again. For instance, I have had TMJ (that’s lockjaw) on many different occasions and I am no stranger to rickets, lupus, consumption, and the general malaise that always signals the onset of something new and terrible. I have had various tumors pop up and then mysteriously disappear, unexplainable skin rashes, phantom aches and pains that seem to be coming from one or more major organs; not to mention the occasional blurred vision, shortness of breath, light headedness and racing and/or irregular heartbeat (which is totally unrelated to the present heart cancer).

In fact, I come close to dying on a regular basis. Not that this earns me any sympathy or extra attention, mind you. Judging by the way my friends and family react to each new malady, you’d think they were all used to their loved one contracting a fatal disease every month. Well, okay...maybe they are all used to it by now. But still, that shouldn’t lessen the severity of the situations.

Whenever someone pats me on the shoulder condescendingly and says, “I’m sure it’s all your head, dear.” I think, “Oh, yeah?! Well, you just wait. One of these days I really will be dying. Who’ll be sorry then, huh?”

I have searched countless web sites dealing with practically every disease a human is susceptible to, comparing my various symptoms with those listed. Sure, I may be dying on a daily basis, but at least I’m well-informed.

If you can’t quite understand what I’m talking about, let me try and explain. See, it’s a completely different mind-set. For instance, when your back hurts, you probably think, “Gee, I must have picked up something heavy and strained a muscle.” If my back hurts I immediately panic and think, “Kidney disease!” Who’s probably right? Well, you, of course. But, it only takes one time of me being right to prove that, while the hypochondriac lifestyle isn’t very relaxing, one day if might actually save your life.

You think I’m kidding? Let me ask you something: Did you even know that you can get cancer of the heart? No, probably not. And because of that, you’d just let that funny little twinge in your chest or those added beats go by without stopping to think, “Oh my God! Heart cancer!” and rush to your nearest doctor. The cancer would spread, and you would die.

While I, on the other hand, am carefully monitoring the strange behavior of my heart in an effort to catch this deadly disease before it is too late -- so that I may live to develop yet another deadly disease.

By the way, this phenomenon also expands to include an irrational fear of developing disorders of the mind. I’ll share all those with you another time. Well, one of my personalities will. I’m pretty sure I feel an attack of schizophrenia coming on.



If I Only Had a Heart
August 4, 2000

I had an interesting electrocardiogram experience this morning. Well, sure, anything involving monitoring the heart (or at least the necessity to do so) is “interesting,” but this morning’s was particularly so because it was my first time getting an EKG -- and because the machine said I was dead.

I will explain....

First of all, for those who don’t know, the process of an EKG evolves attaching electrode thingies all over your body, and those electrode thingies transfer electric signals from your heart to a big scary-looking machine, and then that machine prints out a jaggedy line on a long strip of white paper, and then the doctor looks at it, say's "Hmmmmm..." and then tells you if you are going to die.

I think I got all that right.

Anyway, an electrode thingie is strapped around each leg, down at the ankle, and then around each arm, just above the elbow. A sensor pad thingie is attached to your chest. All of these are then connected by wires to the machine. So, by the time you’re all hooked-up you resemble a Texas inmate.

As the nurse was plugging in the wires on the arm straps, she must have noticed my pensive look, because she tells me to “relax, there isn’t anything to worry about.” Which, I found ironically amusing seeing as how she was running an advanced medical test on my heart to search for abnormalities and/or defects. It seems only natural that one would be a bit worried by this, doesn’t it?

But, because I always use humor to cover for fear (or sincerity), I ask grimly, “Any chance for that last-minute pardon from the Governor, Warden?”

She laughs because, well, me so funny.

The nurse tells me to take deep breaths and (again) relax. She flips a switch, and the machine whirs and clicks....and then she makes a face. A frownie face! And I’m thinking, “Oh, my God -- WHAT?!”

She turns the machine off, moves the sensor pad thingie on my chest to another location, turns the machine back on, it whirs and clicks....and again I get The Face! Now I’m thinking, “Shouldn’t a person in the medical profession have a more carefully controlled reaction to disaster? It certainly would behoove her to maintain a poker face even though it is painfully obvious to her that I must have THE HEART CANCER!”

But she doesn’t inform me of the presence of the heart cancer -- I can only assume she wants to let the doctor do that. Instead, she proceeds to repeat this process three more times. Each time she switches the machine off, relocates the sensor pad, switches the machine back on, whir, click....the face.

Finally, she turns to me and asks, “Are you feeling all right?”

I say, “Well, I WAS. What’s wrong?”

She looks at me and says in a rather surprised tone, “All I’m getting is a flatline.”

Now, I’ve watched enough ER to understand that lovely bit of medical lingo. So, I’m thinking, “Great! I’m dead. And I didn’t even realize it. Wow, so this is what it’s like to be dead. Hmmm...seems about the same as when I was alive. My nose itches and I have to go to the bathroom. All normal, alive qualities. I see no bright lights, I hear no angles singing. Gee, what a let-down this death thing is.”

The nurse is still looking at me strangely as though she’s watching a real-life episode of The X-Files. So, I proceed to float up off the table and drift down the hall, passing through doors without having to open them.

Kidding.

Actually, she came to the conclusion that the machine was merely broken. Oh, and that I was, indeed, very much alive. The doctor confirmed this when he came back into the room. What a relief, eh?

But now I have an Echo-cardiogram scheduled for next week. I can’t wait......



And the Beat Goes On
August 16, 2000

Well, I had an echocardiogram today. Yes, I have a heart. (Collective sigh of relief.) In fact, the nurse in cardiology who ran the test was able to find it on the very first try. She didn’t see anything unusual or freaky. Or at least that’s what she said. “They” will look at the reading tonight and send the final results to my physician tomorrow. So, there’s still time for them to detect the dreaded heart cancer.

Nothing funny happened on my latest encounter with the medical world, however. It was all very routine. Very clinical. I have discovered that these people don’t joke around. I tried to engage the Echo-Woman in a lively conversation, but she kept telling me to be quiet because I was interfering with the sonogram waves. I told her my EKG flatline story and she didn’t even crack a smile. I was going to launch into the Goathead story but decided not to even bother.

But, you know how you can take your car into the shop to have its suspicious-sounding pings and knocks checked out, only to have it behave beautifully once the mechanic looks at it? Well my heart did that today. It performed just like a heart should. It didn’t skip a beat, it didn’t miss a beat, it didn’t flutter, it didn’t sputter....nothing. It just flub-dubbed itself right along, just like a normal heart is supposed to do. Maybe it is “all in my head.”

Nah. There’s something wrong with me, dagnabbit. It may take passing out cold and being rushed to the hospital to prove it, but, by God, if that’s what I have to do.....

Of course, I may have to face the fact that there is, indeed, nothing “wrong” with my heart. Then, I’m going to have to find something else to obsess over and worry about. I found a small knot in my leg last week. Could be a blood clot. I’ll keep you all posted.