I've been accused of being a hypochondriac, probably since first grade. My teacher yelled a lot, and I called home sick a lot. It helped that I would get to take a pillow and blanket and go to work with my mom, where I would get Gatorade. I may have been a hypochondriac then, but now I think I just may be guilty of being conscious of what is wrong and vocal about it. Luckily A is pretty tolerant.
It does seems that there is always something wrong with me. Never major issues, just little things. For example, about a week ago, I wore sandals for the first time this season. It was a super cute outfit, but a few hours into the day my right foot started to hurt, on the side of my big toe. It started coming back to me, that these sandals, although they are Naturalizers (a comfort brand) do give me blisters sometimes. Well, after running to catch the train to work, I checked out my toe, and not only did I have a blister, but a broken blister. It stung. It ended up hurting enough that I had to stop into Smith's and buy some flip flops to continue on my daily walk. So, the blister is still healing. I've been nursing it for what seems like forever now.
Then last week I cut my right index finger on a tin can, TWICE! Same finger on two different occasions!
So far, these things have not required a doctor. Just examples of some of my minor infirmities. But last night, something weird happened. My right index toe (is there even such a thing? but I think you know what I mean) started feeling weird. It is still feeling weird. Not really hurting, but swollen and tender. It is just weird, and looks weird. It is one of those things that will probably go away in a few days, and not worth paying a giant copay to be told to take ibuprofin for.
But still, it would be nice to know a doctor that I could just give a call when I have concerns like these, or worse than these. It would also be nice to have a doctor friend that could write prescriptions for me. Sometimes I know what I have, and yet when I call doctors I have seen before, they insist I come in, or insist that I go to instacare. Then, 20+ dollars later, they give me a diagnosis I had already given myself, and prescribe me the drugs that I already knew I needed. This frustrates me unbelievably. (I'm actually having one of these predicaments today, and just hoping I feel better tomorrow. Here's to hoping.)
So doctors, want to be my friend? I promise not to call you for every little bruise and scrape, just some of them.