Here's my sign
As Bill Engvall would tell me ... here is my sign.
For about 30 minutes this morning, I was convinced I had meningitis. *sigh* Yes, I know, I know. The odds of that are probably a trillion to one that I would have it, but I woke up with this seriously stiff neck and pain that radiated from my neck down through my spine. It is still there, too. So, of course, my first instinct is to panic and assume the worse. This drives Army of Dad nuts. It makes me nuts, too, but that runs in the family as anyone who knows my mom and brother can attest.
Let me explain to those of you who don't know my family. My mother is a tried-and-true hypochondriac. I love her dearly and life is much better since she started meds for her psychosis. Life was interesting growing up in that house, to say the least. My mother does have some health problems, but if you asked her, she was dying every day. There is not enough room on the Internet to fully describe what life was like growing up with her. Having an emotionally disturbed mother makes for a lively childhood. Thing is, when you're a little kid, you think this is what "normal" is and you don't have anything else to base normalcy on. There are many blogs here waiting to be written, but on this topic of being sick - I grew up in a situation in which every time I sniffled, I was convinced that hospitalization was around the corner. Of course, part of that came from the fact that I was diagnosed with cancerous tumors in my face when I was 7. So, she had some reason to freak out whenever I was sick. The problem is that she had me convinced I was dying whenever I got ill. Now, granted, I have had my fair share of issues, but not to the extent that I was always made to believe and that has stuck with me. I always assume the worst possible scenario.
So, a slow recovery from the flu combined with a stiff sore neck must surely mean meningitis ... right? Ok, so I don't have meningitis, but I wish that alleve would kick in.
For about 30 minutes this morning, I was convinced I had meningitis. *sigh* Yes, I know, I know. The odds of that are probably a trillion to one that I would have it, but I woke up with this seriously stiff neck and pain that radiated from my neck down through my spine. It is still there, too. So, of course, my first instinct is to panic and assume the worse. This drives Army of Dad nuts. It makes me nuts, too, but that runs in the family as anyone who knows my mom and brother can attest.
Let me explain to those of you who don't know my family. My mother is a tried-and-true hypochondriac. I love her dearly and life is much better since she started meds for her psychosis. Life was interesting growing up in that house, to say the least. My mother does have some health problems, but if you asked her, she was dying every day. There is not enough room on the Internet to fully describe what life was like growing up with her. Having an emotionally disturbed mother makes for a lively childhood. Thing is, when you're a little kid, you think this is what "normal" is and you don't have anything else to base normalcy on. There are many blogs here waiting to be written, but on this topic of being sick - I grew up in a situation in which every time I sniffled, I was convinced that hospitalization was around the corner. Of course, part of that came from the fact that I was diagnosed with cancerous tumors in my face when I was 7. So, she had some reason to freak out whenever I was sick. The problem is that she had me convinced I was dying whenever I got ill. Now, granted, I have had my fair share of issues, but not to the extent that I was always made to believe and that has stuck with me. I always assume the worst possible scenario.
So, a slow recovery from the flu combined with a stiff sore neck must surely mean meningitis ... right? Ok, so I don't have meningitis, but I wish that alleve would kick in.
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