Monday, May 9, 2011

The short end of the genetics stick

As long as I can remember I've always been a sickly child. My family called me a hypochondriac so often that it could have been my middle name.  They thought I was exaggerating my ailments and I will neither confirm or deny that. (I was a good student, but PE in Middle School is tough for the tubby kids.)

Anyway, the more I think about it...that word haunts me. Anytime I feel an illness or an ailment my first inclination is that I am being a hypochondriac. I don't want people to see me as the girl that cried headache. I don't want people to see me as the girl who is always sick, so I try as hard as I can to suck it up and carry on with life. 

I've joked recently about my 3 week headache and then my week of dizziness and "old lady knee" that wouldn't support me...but it wasn't until the mobility in my arm started to go that I admitted defeat. Ok, ok, it wasn't until my co-workers insisted I was having a stroke that I decided to call the nurse.  After a quick 8 hours in the Emergency Room I was released with medication pumping through my veins for Atypical Migraines.

First off I'd like to say that my symptoms never prompted Migraines under WebMD's list of "WTF could be wrong with you." Instead I got the slew of possible infections and tumors. I'm very well versed in infections, and that other option was too scary to face. I'm not to thrilled about their error. (Dear WebMD, please fix your symptom checker for all the other chicken-shits like me that are too afraid to see a real doctor.)

Next I will admit that regardless of how scary the news could have been I was wrong to wait so long. After the Hypoglycemic diagnosis I became pretty good at telling when my blood sugar was getting low. I learned to distinguish the excited or nervous jitters from the "dang-it, I forgot to eat again" jitters. As much as I want to deny it, the Hypo label helped me listen to my body.

With the three week headache and the partial paralysis I knew something was wrong but couldn't face it. So here I sit, publicly admitting to you all that I am in pain with only a little fear that you'll call me a hypochondriac. (Please be nice.)

I know that I have been given the short end of the genetics stick. Maybe one day I'll blog about all the things wrong with me.  Feel free to email your suggestions so I can censor them as I see fit.

1 comment:

  1. Dear Hypo, It seems in a family, illnesses get spread around. Speaking from experience, one child is super crabby, one has One has one kind of arthritis, one another kind, One has small boobs while another has big, and I mean big ones. You o...n the other hand, being the only child of a couple, seem to gotten hit with all the shit your parents had wrong. At least you didn't get the mental stuff as far as I'm aware of. And you did get good things too. Your bio moms talents of seeing beautiful things and being able to make something out of nothing to show beauty. Your art ability, your cake decorating, Maddie's play house was a work of art. You got her friendliness. Her willingness to help others even when you don't feel good. To me these are wonderful traits to have. So, you are a hypo. We all love you for you and the way you are. We may not like you if you were different in any way.


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