I’m feeling really excited today. I’m working on two big pieces for Women’s Health magazine, and the research is fascinating, at least to this science geek. And even better news: there’s very little to go hypochondriacal over.
I’ve been trying to avoid any news stories that will send me into a panic over the state of my health. There is absolutely nothing wrong with me, give or take a few neuroses, but every time I read a freakish story about strokes or abnormally large hearts or autoimmune diseases (where the body’s immune system goes haywire and attacks itself), I become a little more convinced that some horrible sickness is lurking undetected somewhere within my body.
On the way to the beach on Saturday, Linda mentioned that her sister’s dog went for a checkup and was diagnosed with Lyme disease.
“What? Dogs can get Lyme disease? Are you kidding me?” I was aghast.
And before you start thinking, “Girl, you live in Brooklyn. How many ticks are you possibly going to find there?” let me remind you that a tree or two does grow here. And where there are trees of the non-frond variety, there are itty-bitty blood-sucking insects. Our friend Michelle, who lives across from Prospect Park, found that telltale bull’s-eye rash on her leg. When she went to the doctor, he treated her with a heavy dose of antibiotics for Lyme disease, because if you don’t catch it right away, you’re pretty much fucked. How’s that for scare tactics? I promise, those are not the kinds of articles I’m writing.
Anyway, the reason I was so freaked out is because Linda, her sister Nancy, and I, along with our partners (Adam, Ray, Ryan) and our dogs (Libby, Susie, Keely) are a hiking trifecta. Every weekend in spring and fall, we all load into the car and cruise up to Hudson Valley to let our dogs run wild. We’ve collected enough ticks off their bodies to start a traveling tick circus.
“Yeah, Libby gets booster shots for it,” said Linda. “The vet said if your dog spends any amount of time in the woods, they should get it.”
I felt like the worst doggie parent in the world. So now I am not only obsessed with my health, I am also hovering over Keely like an overprotective mother, looking for any possible signs of infection. I can’t wait until I develop full-blown Munchausen Syndrome by Proxy — you know, that peculiar psychiatric disorder where a parent tries to convince everyone around them that their child is deathly ill, and will even go to extreme lengths to cause medical problems in their kid. Like me hitting Keely repeatedly in the legs with a baseball bat until she develops a limp so the doctor will believe me when I say she has hip dysplasia. Hopefully, somebody will club me if I ever start thinking about having kids. My brain would explode with worry from every possible hazard in this world. As my grandfather said to me shortly before being diagnosed with Alzheimer’s, “You have to be careful. There are wolves out there.”
Filed under: Uncategorized | Tagged: hypochondriac, Lyme disease, Munchausen Syndrome by Proxy, panic
I can’t believe your vet didn’t try and sell you those booster shots. Our vet is the master upseller. Last time we were there, she insisted on bloodwork and x-rays and told us our dog most likely had cancer. (She doesn’t.)