Hypochondria

Sometimes I think I have brain damage. Seriously. And sometimes I think I have cancer and Multiple Sclerosis, too. I know for certain there is a tumor growing in my pancreas.

It is highly likely the result of understimulation. Like right now, I have a dull nagging headache, and I can't pinpoint the source - sinus? tension? and not much keeping me too busy to think about it, so it is easy to draw the conclusion that its encephylitis. I have two weeks to live.

Then the part of my brain still healthy and not infected tells me that I'm the most rediculous person I know. And there are people who are sadly REALLY suffering from these afflictions, who would give the world to be in my size 5 shoes. Buuuuuttttt, that could be the infected part of my brain talking, too.

Some people knit, sail, breed poodles, or build adirondack chairs for hobbies. I propose that it is not as much fun as perusing the webdoctor site, looking up symptoms and finding out what is really going on with my heart palpatations.

The best fun about being a hypochondriac is having hypochondriadar. I can pick out my sisters and brothers in work meetings, the library, the Eddie Bauer outlet, and even white water rafting. Its great because I also have sort of a twisted sense of humor.

"Hey, Marla - that spot on your arm looks different than it did last week. Well, its probably nothing"

"Did you hear about the Hoof and Mouth outbreak in Britain? Its a new strain that passes to humans and is particularly resistant to medication AND I understand it wasn't caught until after a shipment of sheep landed in Philadelphia earlier this week..."

Okay, if this blog isn't true and solid evidence of brain damage, then you have it too.

Back to work.....