"What's she doing with that in the middle of the day AT WORK?"--that's what you're wondering.
I'm not sure at what age I developed such keen sense of body/physical/self/ awareness (hypochondria, perhaps), but I will tell you that the older I get, the more I notice each and every detail of how I feel and how my surroundings are making me feel. I'm one of those "rather be safe than sorry" people...very safe actually.
(at night in our bed, probably seconds from reaching the REM stage)
K: LOUIS! Did I lock the door? Did you check? Do you remember?
L: It's locked. But you're going to check it anyway...
K: Hmm...I mean I think I locked it? (loud clonking steps in the hallway, doornob jiggles and scary person barges in and begins shooting like a madman) I better do a doublecheck. (checks) Oh..it was locked.
(on my way to work)
K: Shoot. I'm not sure if I turned that front burner off this morning after I made the omelet. I must have turned it off. But I didn't have time to wash the skillet so it's still on the stove...which means I may not have noticed if the flame was still on. Great. (front half of house is burning down)---Damnit I'll just get off the stupid train and call Louis.
K: (calls) Hey can you check if I turned off the burner? (I mean honestly, oven I get, but who could actually walk out of the house with the burner still on?)
L: (sleeping) Ok I'll check.
L: Yeah, it was off.
We are on the subway in the middle of the day, on a weekend, heading to a concert. Boy gets on train selling candy, to make some honest money and stay off the streets (you know the spiel).
K: (to myself)That boy looks awfully tall. And old. A little strange he's doing this candy selling thing..most boys selling candy look about 8..not 25?
L: ARE YOU LISTENING TO ME?
K: Huh? Yes..I mean I'm trying to.
L: (chatter chatter chatter)
K: (zoning, zoning, zoning. staring, staring, staring.)
(2 more candy selling boys, very tall candy selling boys, get on train. They proceed to SIT NEXT TO ME. )
Boy: (original candy selling boy bumps into me) Oh, excuse me.
Boy: (gets out box cutter---to cut his box. He did have a box.)
K: (box cutter is held to neck, purse is snatched, death, death, death!) LOUIS IM GETTING OFF.
L: (follows, furiously).
K: Sorry!!!! If I'm uncomfortable and afraid I'm going to get off!
Perhaps you catch my drift. Safety first, folks. Self preservation. Family preservation. Always on the forefront of my mind. Which leads me to...a month before the wedding I was sitting at my desk at work and noticed a little pinch on my right side under my ribs. I poked around a bit with my finger and realized I had a sore spot on my back, right side. Immediately I started to feel faint and was then forced to do google search, because self diagnosis is always the most mind settling thing to do in these situations. I told myself it was nothing but of course for the next few days I couldn't think about anything else. My search revealed that tons of important things (ORGANS) were in the area RIGHT where my pain was.
So, I went to the doctor.
As soon as the doctor touched me I burst into tears.
Doctor: Why are you crying? In your mind, what are you thinking this is?
K: Something with my pancreas? I read that was in this area area. Kidneys? Need my gallbladder removed? I'm getting married in a month, you know. I just keep thinking it's something horrible. It's all I can think about.
D: Well, most likely if it was something very serious you wouldn't feel a pain on the outside. Plus, there aren't any organs in the area you are pointing at. Come back in a few weeks if the pain isn't gone, but my guess is it's muscular. You probably need to lift less at the gym and be careful picking up heavy things.
... 2 months later, and a lot of jamming my finger under my ribs, pain is still there. It must be something awful. After all, the pain never went away.
Yesterday I marched myself back into the doctors office because I HAVE to get to the bottom of this. When the doctor asked me to show her where the pain was, she said that I was really pushing hard and that I'm probably aggravating the area and making it sore. BUT, she ordered ultrasounds anyway. Ultrasounds. No big. Had those tons of times.
Ultrasounds were today. Let me tell you...MISERY.
I mean, I've never heard of 40 minutes worth of ultrasounding???? Along with a grouchy woman, who made strange faces as she snapped each photo--as though something terrible was wrong with me--huffing, puffing, and face scrunching...her eyeballs one inch from the computer monitor.
Angry: BREATH IN, OUT, IN, OUT, IN, OUT, OUT, OUT, PUSH OUT...NO THATS IN, PUSH OUT.. DONT MOVE BREATH IN HOLD YOUR BREATH.
K: Is the next one going to take as long? (I had three seperate SETS of photos total I'll spare you the details)
Angry: THE LAST ONE DIDNT TAKE LONG.
K: (crying. hyperventilating. terrified. Wondering how I'll ever be pregnant because I literally cannot stand anyone touching me at the doctors office.) Is there a reason you keep saying "Damn?" Is it something wrong inside me?
Angry: NO. It's the machine.
K: Well I guess you can't tell me if anythings wrong anyway.
Angry: NO. NOT ALLOWED.
Ok....so I left there in hysterics. Called Louis. Felt better. Relieved that's over. Praying nothings wrong because I don't know how I could handle something being wrong..those doctors and nurses with their constant touching and prodding.
After all that I decided I most definitely needed a mid-day treat. Chocolate frozen yogurt with bananas and granola. If only chocolate could constantly be pumped into my body to rid my fears and anxiety.
Being afraid is no way to live. I know. I'm working on it.