Hyperchondriac?

Currently listening to: the sound of my own frustration.

Maybe it has something to do with the fact that I have a warped sense of how the human body works. It still escapes my mind how one of my intestines is 20 feet long, not to mention the fact that I spent years completely misunderstanding what menstruation is all about.

A few days ago I felt, under my tongue, a sore. A canker sore, uncomfortable even to talk.


Damned be the second I discovered Google!


A minute later I was frantically informing my husband I may have oral cancer and I needed to get an appointment to see the doctor ASAP. He gave me a sideways glance and sighed, as I read deeper and deeper into the symptoms of the disease - and then he snatched my iPhone off my hand.


And that's where "hyperchondriac" was born. Or at least coined.


I'm pretty sure it was born right around the time Craig and I started flirting with the idea of becoming three. I started obsessing with getting healthier, stronger, fit to be a baby machine. Before the opportunity of becoming a mother became available, I didn't pay much attention to being healthy. 


Well, now I'm a hyperchondriac, that freaks out if my basal temperature one particular morning is below the normal threshold (HYPOTHYROIDISM? omg no). In a way I realize it's a good thing, I'm worrying about my health for a good reason, but it's also a source of infinite amusement to my jerk of a spouse. Whatevsss.


In other, far more exciting news: I want to quit my job. Ta-dah!