I might have mentioned before that I have a cute hypochondria. It is sweet and endearing and never ever drives Her to the brink, the edge or around the bend.
The growth under my mouth? My chin.
The shakes in my hands and buzzy feeling in my chest? 37 cups of espresso.
My monthly hysteria as I put on my socks…. “Oh my God, I’ve grown another toe!!”
“We all have 5 toes.” She tells me. “ON EACH FOOT?” I ask.
Last week we had to go to the gallery in town and change and re-arrange and re-organize and so She loaded me into our rental vehicle (yellow peril was in the garage for minor surgery) and off we went.
After a few minutes, I started to feel very odd. “The Worry” set in and I started going over my very extensive symptoms list in my head.
Symptoms of a stroke: Headache- nope. Ask yourself what day it is. WHAT DAY IS IT? I asked myself. I DON’T KNOW! I answered. OH MY GOD! But you often don’t know what day it is, I tell myself. I move on to the next symptom.
Dizziness? Nope. Can I smile? Yes, but I don’t want to because I feel so odd.
My legs and thighs are very tingly and my back is very hot, VERY HOT. My bum might be going numb, it is THAT hot. I am starting to panic and these strange feelings are only getting worse. Maybe I am going paralyzed. Maybe I AM having a stroke and this is a very rare symptom. HOT. The heat of 1000 suns is bursting through my caboose and is getting worse as the kilometers roll by. If I say something to Her, She will just get mad and say “Don’t be so foolish, you’re fine.”
So I keep my zipper zipped and close my eyes and will my body to heal thyself.
Minutes pass and I am starting to panic. I can’t take it anymore and decide to tell Her that we have to go to the hospital before She turns towards St. John’s.
ME: “We have to go to the hospital”
HER: “WHY?” she asks.
ME: “I am having a stroke or a heart attack or both or an outbreak of cancer. I have a fever in my bum!”
HER: “What is wrong exactly?”
ME: “I am tingly and burning. Burning like fire all down the back of my legs, my lower back and bum!”
She is convulsing and pulls over to the shoulder. Stopped. OH MY GOD…….SHE knows that these ARE symptoms of the stroke-cancer-heart-attack-seizure and is having a hysterical panic attack. I will have to drive myself to the hospital!
BAH-HA-HA-HAAABAHA HA HA HA! She screams. Tears are running down Her face. She must know that this is the end and can’t face the world without me in it.
My heart is racing, bum on fire, panic set-in, ready for the full-on hysteria ….…
HER: “THIS CAR HAAS HEATED SEEAATS! BAHAHAHA BAHAHAHAHA!” HAVE YOU BEEN WORRIED ALL THIS TIME THAT YOU HAVE A FEVER IN YOUR BUM? BBAHAHAHAAAA!”
We stay on the shoulder for quite a few minutes as it takes this long for Her to compose Herself and get a grip. Needless to say, we did not go to the hospital. I MAY have to go fairly soon though, for trauma to my ego. Ego-itis, it’s called. Do you know or have any idea how many jokes can be made about a bum, a backside or a hot bum. Millions, I tell you millions. I hate the stupid rental car and all of the trouble it has caused me. What a bummer, indeed.
"Blanche The Recycler" inspects the garbage can and chastises us for not re-using the gift wrap.