24 May 2008

warning: hypochondria ahead

A long holiday weekend, but when someone asked me yesterday if I was looking forward to it, I said no. "I don't get paid for holidays, and I have a limited number of friends in this town because I've only been here for a few months, and too many of them are going out of town. I'd rather work." It's true but it's not. By the end of a week, I'm exhausted and worn down. My sore throat builds as the week goes on, and by Friday I'm googling "too many bruises" because I seldom bruise, but I HAVE A BRUISE ON MY HAND LEUKEMIA DYING HYPOCHONDRIA. One. Single. Bruise. The only one anywhere on my body (yes, I checked). In addition to not bruising easily, I am clumsy and I have a high pain threshold, so I run into things a lot. Mostly I don't remember them unless I get a bruise, like this triangular bruise on my hand, which is already almost gone, and then maybe if I think back carefully I remember how I slid into my desk too quickly and caught the corner of the drawer, or slammed the door on myself while trying to slip in with too many things in my hands.

Regardless, I stocked up on Emergen-C and pro-biotic yogurt drinks and have committed to drinking one of each per day because I have concluded that this daily working gig is wearing down my immunity, what with all the not getting to bed on time and dealing with the general public and forgetting to wash my hands because by the time I get a break I'm just too hungry to wait to snarf down those almonds that have to keep me going for three more hours. I can't do that instant hand sanitizer stuff, either, because I don't believe in it. Many a time I wish I did believe in it, particularly on long drives to remote places in Rwanda or Sudan (other option: careful eating of granola bar without removing it from package or touching it with hands). But I disapprove of all that antibacterial, alcohol-based stuff because I think it's killing us as surely as it is the poor innocent bacteria, so I can't be one of those people who keeps it on their desk, not even the smelly yummy kind.

Last week, I found myself comforting a guy who was nervous and sweating about his drug charge by saying, "Some people who come in here have really BIG problems." And the weird thing was that he was comforted, and said, "Yeah, you're right. At least I don't have big problems."

1 comment:

traci said...

you had good instincts on what to say to that guy about the big problems. it could always be much worse. and you are not going to die.