My hypocondria reached a new high in the last few weeks justifying an interruption of my blogging services to seriously explore imaginary diseases. Mostly I found a real pusher in that little jogging Jewish doctor I talked to you about. The one who sneaked Klonopin in my life (not enough obviously). I also got a little panicked after Anna Nicole’s death because after all she was only 12 years older than I and had a much healthier lifestyle. She also experienced a short albeit fulfilling relationship, which is supposed to ensure longevity. I have been flashing my useless Aetna PPO insurance card in most ambulatory care and doctor’s office in town this week. I spend all of my savings to obtain the confirmation that I am healthy besides two “mild” leaks in my heart valves and some minor emotional damages imputable to my mother.
I take pleasure in seating in patient waiting areas in DC. I find myself at peace in a purple chair surrounded by multicolor carpeting and old people quietly dying of pneumonia and heart diseases. Their painful breathing soothes me. I read the little pamphlets which feed my conversations with my primary physician (did you know that Levitra can turn you blind? Or that Ambien shouldn’t be taken with alcohol? Anyone? Anyone? Kevin W?). I also try to engage with the medical support staff on how tough it is to live outside the beltway when you make $8.50/hr (shame on you GW).
The annoying part is that it pollutes all of my conversations with other human beings who do not automatically have a similar interest in my health. Besides perhaps the very empathic LL, who always says “Awww, I am sorry FH”. My flirting conversation almost always include some “parasite story” these days and I am afraid it does not contribute to the “positive mental attitude” image that my PR guy wants me to convey.
Ok I am leaving because I don’t want people around here to think I don’t have a date. Happy Valentine’s day Kiddos.
Parasites are for lovers.
Posted by: FrenchBenj | Friday, February 16, 2007 at 05:55 AM