why i'm so glad i woke up alive this morning and didn't die in my sleep.

i know the post title sounds serious and that's because it kind of is.  not really.  so last night, i'm sitting at my kitchen table attempting to put a second permanent invisishield cover on my iphone.  (the night before quasi had put the first invisishield screen on UPSIDE-FREAKING-DOWN leaving my phone a sticky mess.  long story.  i thought my life was over yesterday and my phone was going to be ruined forever.)  oh, and i was baking more of those easter bunny sugar cookies.  i started with ten boxes and i'm down to two.  don't judge.   for those of you who are familiar with those invisishield things, you have to be really precise about it.  plus, they're $30 and this was the second one since the first got all effed up, so i was a little bitter about spending $60 for a damn protective shield.  well, technically i didn't buy them, but it was still money that could have been spent on other things.

anyways, so like i said i'm sitting at my kitchen table trying to have the concentration of a surgeon conducting a dangerous, evasive brain surgery.  one wrong move, and the person iphone is dead.  while i'm totally absorbed with the task at hand, my little nugget has dragged out her toy basket and is throwing her toys all around the apartment.

she's kicking bones with her paws, watches them slide across the wood floor, then chases after them sliding into walls and making a shitload of noise.  i'm trying to get her to stop and be still for a little bit because she's totally ruining my focus style.  naturally, she doesn't listen because she doesn't care.  she's like a teenager, but at least i can lock her in her crate.  last i checked with CPS, you're not allowed to do that with kids.  supposedly.  we'll see.  

so i put the screen on the phone, finally, and admire my hard work.  i then turn to see my little nugget head laying sideways on the floor trying to stretch out and reach a rawhide that has slid under the couch.  (this is a nightly thing.  drives me insane.)  so she's making this awful scraping noise with her claws on the metal bar under the couch.  it's like nails on a chalkboard but worse.  finally, i finish my iphone surgery and get up to get the bone so she'll stop.  

when i bend down to get it, she jumps on my back and bites my ponytail.  (she's obsessed with ears, ponytails, and buns.  it's really weird.)  i jolt up very quickly and as i do i knock the back of my head on my coffee table and fall back to the ground.  i try to stand up, but when i do i fall back down and i'm seeing all these black spots.  

i touch the back of my head and see a tiny bit of red.  no, i'm not bleeding profusely or anything, but enough to say, shit, i'm bleeding, i coud be dying.  what if this is brain fluid?  omg, i don't even have a will.

my head is pounding and i fear my brain is hemorrhaging.  i lay on the couch for a few minutes thinking, i can't even call 911 because that damn invisishield on my phone is still drying!  maybe if i scream loud enough my neighbors will hear me.  but what if screaming makes my brain bleed more?  these are the thoughts going through my wounded and bruised brain.  eventually i get up still feeling wobbly and text my mom.  very carefully, of course because my phone is still drying.

me: mom, i think i'm dying.

mom: no, you're not.

me: yes.  i have a concussion.

mom: how?

me: bailey's bone went under the couch, when i went to get it, i slammed the back of my head into the corner of my coffee table.  i saw stars.  and not the famous kind.  and blood, too.

mom: you probably do have a concussion.  have you thrown up?

me: no, but i have cookies baking in the oven.  shit!  i have cookies in the oven!  they might be burning while my head is bleeding!

mom: go eat your cookies and call me if you throw up.

me: but what if i'm so incapacitated i can't call?  and why are you always telling me to eat cookies.  you are such an enabler.  you want me to be fat.

mom: bailey will call.  and you could never be fat.

me: oh, no!  i can't go to sleep tonight!  what if i have an aneurism in my sleep and i wake up dead!

mom: you can't "wake up dead."

me: you know what i mean.  what if i don't wake up?!  i'll be like liam neeson's wife who hit her head in the terrible ski accident and then went into a coma and never came out of it!  what if that happens?!

mom: then i'll be sad.

thank you, mother for your undying love and support.  fortunately i did wake up alive this morning.

21st century: fueling germaphobia & hypochondria

i am already a self-admitted germaphobe.  i have found there are many others like me out there.  with all the public hand sanitizers and clorox/lysol wipes supplied in grocery stores, it's no wonder why germaphobe addictions continue to be fed.

apparantly the first step to recovery is admitting you have a problem.  so here it is, here i am taking the first step, here i am admitting i have a problem: i am a hypochondriac.

 i have reached this self-diagnosis from a myriad of experiences.  sometimes when i get a really bad headache or migraine, i'm convinced that it could only be one of three things: 1. at any moment i'm going to have a brain aneurism, 2. i have had a tumor that has been undetected for months, or 3. my brain is swelling rapidly and without quick action, i will surely die.  these headaches are typically accompanied with a quick phone call or text to my mom, and the conversations always take on the same kind of structure:

me: mom, i have a really bad headache.  i think there's something wrong with me.

mom: i agree.  there is something wrong with you.

me: no, really, i'm serious.  i think there is something physically wrong with my head.

mom: yeah, i know.  i'm serious, too.  i think there's something wrong in your head, too.


(she clearly does not understand the severity of the situation; i could die at any moment.)


when i feel even the slightest bit warm, i take my temperature.  when i have a sore throat, i inspect my tonsils with a flashlight for redness or infection.  when i have a really severe stomach ache, i make sure it's not on the side where my appendix is (because it could have ruptured, you know).

i think i've always had the tendencies necessary to become a hypochondriac, but it has most certainly been fueled thanks to web md, discovery health channel programming, and my favorite, house. 

i mean seriously, just now when i went to discovery health channel's website, the first thing that came up was this photo and caption:

what IS that skin lesion?  is it a simple spot or something DANGEROUS? and i think to myself, "well, sh*t, i don't know.  i thought it was just a paper cut, but now i can't really be certain!"

please let me know i'm not alone in my affliction.  isn't the best way to overcome a problem in a group??  okay, i'm going to drink some oj; someone in my office is coughing today and you can never have too much vitamin c to boost your immune system...

xo

-m