Living Proof

This year I have taken two large breaks from writing. Back in November I had my hysterectomy that left me foggy for a few months and this past week, I came down with a terrible flu which I'm still recovering from. I'm better, but because of my underlining asthma, the after effects of the bronchitis leaves me hacking up a lung still. Thank God for the prescription cough meds at night or I wouldn't sleep at all. I can see how people get addicted to this crap. I never had such great sleep in my life. Little by little, I've been trying to do more, or at least slowly slide back into my routine again. As soon as I think I'm ok -- I get knocked out by exhaustion and curl up into the fetal position with a mountain of tissues & a few puffs of my inhaler. It definitely hasn't been fun at all. With two trips to the ER to receive breathing treatments and a ton of albuterol and steroids 'to go' -- I should have more energy than my chihuahua. There's no ...

As much as I joke around about my crazy hypochondriacal life, a lot of frustration is involved with the anxiety which is the "probably" the root of the problem. We all fear death. We all fear illnesses and pain, but when does it come to the point of losing your marbles over every single ache and pain?  My mind says (and so does WebMD) that the chest pain I'm having is linked to a possible heart attack. When in doubt, check it out, right? Who wants to mess with a possible heart attack? Some people, like myself who have GERD or some underlining bogus diagnosis of costochondritis live with periodic intense pain that comes from the chest, sometimes radiating into an arm (usually the left for me) . So, how am I to know this isn't the big ticket into heaven? (I'm assuming heaven.) For instance, the other night I'm about to go to bed. I slip into my comfy PJs and cuddle up to my wife and our little chihuahua. We were about to watch a movie when all of the sudden...

You gotta love people when they only see what they wanna see. For me, it’s been a huge problem in many aspects of my life. Having anxiety disorder and depression, I tend to overcompensate by “denying” my symptoms so that I can live a “normal” life, whatever that may be. It’s a bit ironic that when I step into any psychotherapist’s office that they all say the same thing: “You look like you have it together.” I will admit I did something pretty sneaky... I tapped into my psychiatric files once at this rundown clinic I used to go to since I didn’t have any insurance at the time. Mind you, their regulars were schizophrenics and sociopaths. The waiting room itself was a psychiatric ward full of people rocking back and forth drooling over one another. I wanted to see if they really thought I was batshit crazy. As I flipped through each page describing the same diagnosis, I was (and I admit) a bit disappointed. It said, “Generalized Anxiety Disorder”. I said out loud, “Bullshit!” It also ...

The hypochondriac was a regular in the emergency room -- so much so that when he didn't show up for a week, the staff took notice of his absence. He finally did show up again, and one doctor said, "Long time, no see. Where have you been?" "Sorry I couldn't make it in," the hypochondriac said. "I was feeling sick." There are some people in my life who think all my medical issues, ailments and whatnot are ‘all in the head’ - that I’m a hypochondriac, and although that may very well be true, I still plan on engraving, “I TOLD YOU I WAS SICK” on my tombstone. For instance, one night I had chest pains. It felt like what everyone described it as: an elephant sitting on your chest. Then, the pain radiated down from my jaw (a known symptom) and straight down into my left arm. Of course this all seems to happen at midnight and Madelene hops into her jeans and carts me off to the ER. Being in a constant state of hypochondriacal alertness, needless to say ...

While talking with a friend yesterday afternoon, I was telling her my distaste for people who basically try to ruin the moment, or something you’re enjoying at that particular time. I’ve had a few run ins with this. I’d like to say that I just sat there and ignored it, but 99% of the time I come out of my face and confront what they’re doing. On some subjects, the person may be absolutely right, but it’s just the wrong timing. ..or is it? For instance, if someone is eating a bucket of KFC --lay off the diet talk. It’s just that simple. We know that stuff is practically forming mounds on the hip area with each bite, but talking about diets is a no-no. If someone is a hypochondriac, try to stay away from topics such as symptoms of illnesses or medical talk. Their minds will run a million miles per minute. I know, I’m a hypochondriac myself. And, just because ‘you’ have a particular medical condition or allergy, does not mean the other person who is in your company needs to get checked ...

There are so many articles and information on the symptoms of a heart attack. We all know the basic ones: pressure in the chest, chest pains, numbness/tingling radiating down the left arm, jaw pain, lightheadedness, palpitations and for some women, heartburn. The worst thing to do is to look up “symptoms” or “medical advice” on the internet while experiencing these things. Although I know it’s the worst thing to do, I. can’t. help. myself. It’s there. All the info you ever needed is right there in front of you, so why not? I cannot tell you how many times I have been to the emergency room this past year over symptoms that mimicked a heart attack. No joke - if I walked into the emergency room today, I would probably be greeted by name, almost like Norm on Cheers. “Hi Deb” , or, perhaps, “Welcome back!” Regardless, it’s all very frustrating and yet comforting that they all seem to know me very well. With some of the newer staff, I have to warn them about my anxiety and hypochondria....

The mixture of these two words makes for one freaky combination. Easter Sunday was spent at my sister’s home. Since she has the bigger tent in the family, we all decided to congregate over there. It was nice, from the hors d'oeuvres, the lamb dinner, among other delicious foods spread out, to the wine that was constantly pouring into my bottomless glass. My sister and her husband have wine glasses as big as fish bowls. One bottle of wine can fit into a goblet- I swear. After dinner, we all gathered around the island of the kitchen and drank some more wine. I didn’t really keep in mind how big these goblets were. I always said, “Oh well, three or four glasses are my limit- no more after that.” Well, after two of these wines, it’s as though you had more than six glasses! Three servings of wine are held in one goblet. Since I haven’t been my normal ‘guzzling any sort of alcohol even if it’s cough medicine self’ , it affected me more. Lately, I have not been wanting to drink more than...