Approximate amount of times per week I think I’m dying: 12
According to Wikipedia, hypochondria (sometimes referred to as health phobia or health anxiety) refers to excessive preoccupation or worry about having a serious illness.
As much as I hate admitting it, it’s become very evident to me in the past few years that I definitely have this. Well, at least I went on Web MD and frantically searched symptoms and then DIAGNOSED myself as having it (ha).
Unfortunately, I’ve suffered from debilitating migraines for most of my adult life. They are in fact VERY real; and have resulted in prescription medication that I need on-hand daily and also a handful of hospital visits. However, I continuously take my poor headaches to a new level… in the past 10 years I’ve been convinced I must ALSO have:
- A brain tumor (insert ‘Kindergarten Cop’ joke here)
- An aneurysm
- Early Alzheimer’s (sometimes when I get a migraine my brain is foggy and I can’t think straight or remember things)
- An impending head explosion (sometimes the pain is so bad I am literally convinced my head will spontaneously combust leaving brains all over the place)
Sometimes it’s not just symptoms that I feel, it’s just hearing about OTHER people’s ailments that make me feel sick, too. If you mention to me that you have a stomach virus — it doesn’t matter if you’re telling me over the phone and you’re in South America — I’ll start to feel nauseous.
If my eye is itchy and I rub it, and it then turns red (from ME rubbing it)… I now am convinced I have pink eye. I’ve asked Matt a bunch of times in the past year, “does this look like pink eye to you?!”
I stopped using a Neti-pot (even though it helped my allergies and sinus problems immensely) because one woman on Earth got some freak brain-eating amoeba from it and died. Even though I am intelligent enough to realize the odds of this are very unlikely, I still won’t use it because I will be convinced my brain is being eaten the minute I stick it up my nose.
Living as a hypochondriac means that minor toothaches become cavities, dizzy spells become vertigo, paper cuts will require finger amputation, and common colds become SARS.
So next time you see me and I’m whining about some sort of ailment, just ignore me. But if I really DO have Asian bird flu, you guys are gonna feel really bad.