Last week, we went to BossLady's soccer game in the rain. K put on his rain jacket and walked her to the field while I stayed with the other two kids in the car. T had her books, of course, and I had a few sudoku puzzles to finish - but - we all know what happens when you trap a two-year-old in a car for an hour. Playing with his trucks and farm toys was distracting enough for a while, but Misterguy needed more action. Before long he was in Boss' seat in the third row, pulling out all of her books and papers and whatever random third-row stuff he could find. The temptation of the cargo area was too much, so he climbed back there to get to the bicycle helmets and recycling stuff. In three seconds he was next to me, in the driver's seat, attacking the window controls and door locks and wiper switch and horn.
I stopped him from getting to the radio and air controls, because through it all I was straining to hear a program about hypochondria on the NPR station. Wow, what I was able to hear was fascinating, familiar, revealing, and hilarious. They had guests in the studio talking about how hypochondria affected their lives, how it began for them, the books they'd written. There were experts talking about the history of the disease. Here's a summary of the program that aired. Most interesting to me was the link between hypochondria and OCD.
OCD, yep.
No, I haven't been diagnosed with either problem, but autoimmune problems turn a person into a hypochondriac. Throw the internet in the mix and you get someone compulsively, obsessively diagnosing themselves with everything from cancer of the armpit to ringworm. Going through patient-care classes and learning what a fomite is really doesn't help the situation, either. Ew.
Germophobia is not exactly compatible with motherhood but I'm finding my way. I just have to cringe and look away when my kids head for the Rent-a-Can. And keep the big squirt-bottle of hand sanitizer in the car, just out of reach of the little monsterboy bouncing around like a pinball.
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