Tuesday, February 3, 2009

You Think, You Worry

"You worry, you think - it's a vicious cycle." -Victor/Victoria

As my appointment with a real doctor gets closer (as opposed to the Doc-In-The-Box variety, which could well have been imaginary - I was hanging with both the Care and the Swear Bears that day, remember?) I find my stomach unexpectedly performing gymnastics routine, in spite of the fact that the Olympics were last winter. Dude!

I'm always afraid of going to the doctor's office. I'm paranoid that somehow they can look at me and see every bad thing I've ever done; at least the ones printed on my face, the rest are tattooed elsewhere, like on my ass, or in my lungs, and they know.

(I'm sorry, did I not mention I was completely insane today? My bad - yeah, uh, heads up, the girl is kind of batshit today, m'kay?)

I tell myself it's all going to be fine, even if it isn't fine. Bea tells me the same thing, when I'm on the phone with her, telling her how my stomach did a perfect split in it's routine the other day.

Bea: It's going to be fine, stop worrying.
Me: I know it's going to be fine, you don't have to reassure me that it's going to be fine. You don't have to say anything, you know.
Bea: Jesus! So, what am I supposed to say? Nothing? Just let the silence hang and fester?
Me: Yeah, something like that. Or tell me a joke - something!

She's so patient with my batsa crap, but then it is a two-way street, isn't it Bea?
Isn't it?
Bea?
(Damn, I forgot she was on hiatus from the blogosphere. I'm just in here, talking to myself. Neat. Does this post make my ass look nuts? And please, don't be honest!)

11 comments:

FairiesNest said...

No but it does make your crazy look very large! :) Come on, put it in perspective, you're not as crazy as some other members of our immediately family (You Know Who)...and you also know that the worry thing is COMPLETELY, Totally, congenital. I should know, I can out worry your skinny ass ANY day!

FairiesNest said...

yea...and I can't spell worth a damn either...immediate...

Bluestreak said...

nice to know i´m not the only hypochondriac out there.

Chanda (aka Bea) said...

A rabbi, a priest, and a bishop walk into a bar.
The bartender says, "What is this, some kind of joke?"




Anything for you dahlink. :)

Vodka Mom said...

I thought you were going to say Does this post make my ass look BIG??


haha.

flutter said...

Oh, my batshit little fairy. I do adore you

Chris said...

Nooooo. Your ass doesn't look nuts. Not at all. I think your ass looks a little tired, but that's perfectly normal.

Bea sounds like a good friend. I bet she heard every word. Keep us posted on your stomach. Please.

Gypsy said...

Nothing brings on the crazies like a visit to the doctor's office. Well, nothing except maybe a visit to the police.

Also, Bea has hurt my feelings entirely by dropping off the face of the earth. I've decided to take it really personally.

bandick said...

Any news from the doc? I had an uncle with acute pancreatitis. I bet you just have acute little ass.

Maggie, Dammit said...

An optometrist once told me that he could tell how much a person drinks by examining her eyes.

I quit going to the optometrist.

Good luck to you in all this, girl. Everything will be OK, I just feel it.

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