Hypochondria

It's a nasty... disorder?--hypochondriacs are those poor souls who are afflicted with the perpetual affliction of feeling perpetually afflicted, or something to that effect.

I am the Original Hypochondriac. I started this nonsense when I was young, and the trend has continued. I may *never* stop worrying about my health. On the other hand, I suppose it's unlikely that I'll die of some random, undiagnosed/too-late diagnosed illness.

That's kinda the point, really.

After all; who do my doctors think they are? *I* know how *I* feel. Don't I? Don't I? DON'T I???

And I've had the dubious good fortune to be right, once or twice in the past. I diagnosed myself with strep throat when I was 17, and my tonsils were so badly infected they had to come out, after I spent a week on super-antibiotics. I picked up my daughter's autism months before any of her healthcare professionals. I've told my sister on several occasions that she had an ear infection, and been right.

Of course, I've also been wrong. Like when I thought my son had a respiratory problem. Or when I thought my daughter had Rett's. Or any of the *number* of times I've diagnosed myself with cancer/leukemia/AIDS/HIV/MS/TB.

Or half of the times I've *thought* I had strep throat, and actually, it was just a bad case of sinusitis.

Or that time I thought I had a bladder infection, and didn't.

Or the 10+ pregnancy tests I've taken, and been wrong about (at least 2 of which were *after* I had my kids, and should really have known I wasn't).

Or with my numerous insistences that I *definitely* have cavities all over my teeth (my teeth are beautiful, the dentist always tells me so, and I *know* I look after my teeth better than 90% of the population).

Or that time I thought I had angina (that time? who am I trying to kid? I've mentioned it several times, to several different people, and the last time was earlier THIS WEEK).

Or that time I thought I had liver failure, no, not the time a week ago, the time when I was pregnant with my daughter, and the doctor just laughed at me.

Much like the time he laughed at me when I said I was tired all the time and had random bruises (I have 2 kids under the age of 3 at this point, who climb all over me and keep me up all hours, you realise) and when I said the L-word, he barely managed to get me out the door before he collapsed in a fit of somewhat exasperated mirth (he only sees me all the time because he thinks I'm first-rate entertainment...) He mostly thinks I'm full of crap.

Like, quite literally, that time I went to him about severe abdominal pains and a 'lump' in, what do you know, my large bowel, and he told me I was constipated (as opposed to dying of bowel cancer... we did that fun again last month with a nurse practitioner, by the way...)

Or the time I went for a chest x-ray, and the radiographer didn't ask me to stay a bit longer for a chat, and didn't call me the next day, and didn't want to biopsy my lung, and didn't call me or send anything in the post after 10 days OH WAIT THAT'S RIGHT NOW...

The thing is, I only do this every 6 months or so. I can have a general healthcheck that often. It's something like sensible, especially since I genuinely can't tell a worrying symptom from a normal ache or pain. If I keep my smears up to date (they are) visit the doctor any time I have a pain that lasts longer than a month (I do) and force them to explain to me *exactly* why I don't have Swine Flu/Malaria/Sleeping Sickness/Ebola (the doctors are sick of me, but very tolerant) then, for 5-6 months in between, I can chill out.

But for godsake. I wish they'd just do a yearly check-up, like we do back home. I felt *much* healthier, then. Or at least, my spaz-outs lasted a day or two, and then went away again.

I've been convinced I'm dying for 2 weeks or more. It's a bit stressful.

Sometimes I just wanna go home.