The One Where I'm a Hypochondriac

I am dying.

I am dying of some horrible, horrible thing that possibly hasn't even been discovered yet, but I have it because I am 3 steps ahead of science.

Whenever something feels weird, especially when my head is involved, I get really paranoid. Maybe I watch too much Grey's Anatomy/Scrubs/House/Etc., but when something doesn't feel right, I go straight for the most awful thing ever.

Me: My head is hurting. Oh my God, it's never hurt like this before. OH MY GOD, I have a brain tumor. Or meningitis. No. Definitely a brain tumor.

Whomever I'm talking to: Have you had caffeine today? Maybe it's a caffeine headache.

Me: . . . . .NO! It's a BRAIN TUMOR!

I don't know why I always immediately jump to worst case scenario, but I do, and I've been doing that for the last 48 hours or so. My inner ears have been hurting since Monday-ish, and then I felt fuzzy headed and dizzy yesterday, and today, I woke up feeling like my eardrums, both of them, were going to explode.

Me: Oh my God, my ear drums are going to explode and I'll be deaf forever.

D: Maybe you have an inner ear infection. You should probably go to the doctor.

Me: . . . .NO! My eardrums are going to explode and I'm going to go deaf and I'm going to waste valuable hearing time going to the doctor and why would you suggest such a thing WHY DON'T YOU LOVE ME ANYMORE?

D: . . . . . . . .

I did not end up going to the doctor, because they were feeling better once I got up and around and even better once I got to work. But if they get worse, I will probably break down and go to the doctor.

I did go to the dentist today, which is one of my top 5 least favorite things to do. I should note that both my dentist and the dental hygienist (sp?) are lovely people of whom I am quite fond, but it's the IDEA of the dentist that I dislike, and not so much my dentist herself. I don't like people being that close me to with their hands in my mouth. I also don't like the pokey metal Instruments of Torture they use.

Since I'm diabetic, I am more prone to having gum trouble. Therefore, flossing is something I should do often. The thing is. . .sometimes you're running late and don't think about it. And sometimes, you've brushed your teeth and have already gotten into bed by the time you remember it. And sometimes. . .you just don't feel like it.

I will be the first to admit that I'm not the best flosser. HOWEVER! I do not buy that the fact I'm a bad flosser is the ONLY reason why my gums bleed when they start stabbing me with their Instruments of Torture.

"Your gums are bleeding because you don't floss enough, Sarah," they say.

What I want to say (but don't, obviously) is, "No! My gums are bleeding because you are stabbing them with pointy metal things."

But I digress.

Since my teeth have "soft spots" caused by improperly formed enamel, and have therefore been sealed, and one of those seals, apparently, came off, I have to go back and get a filling. As it turns out, fillings are expensive. However, Mom said she and my Sdad would help me pay for it, so that's awesome. (Me being poor and all.) So I'll be back in the dentist's chair in the next couple of weeks, this time with Instruments of Torture INTENDED to cause me pain aimed at my face. Which is awesome in the not-so-awesome sort of way.