Having an imagination can be a heap of fun, but lately mine has become my enemy and this begs the question. Do others suffer from this affliction or is it just me?
It all began the day before New Year’s Eve.
I was in the middle of a Post-Christmas tidy up. Gradually, I became aware of a twinge in the middle of my chest.
A couple of hours later and the twinge had become something more, it was at this point when the imagination took hold and hijacked the logical mind.
Abandoning the tidy up I sat on the favourite chair with my feet up.This could be a heart attack! Should I call someone? I thought better of it; I would look pretty stupid calling 999 if it turned out to be indigestion.
New Year’s Eve
The next day, seeing as I was still alive, I took another spoonful of the thick pink stuff and another aspirin (Covering all bases). Evening arrived and the twinge/heart attack hadn’t improved, this time I tried alcohol, well it was New Year’s Eve!
It’s the middle of the night and the alcohol has neither killed nor cured me and my gloomy imaginings have taken over the nocturnal thoughts.
New Year’s Day
It’s New Year’s Day. I go online and make an appointment to see a medic, I make one with a lady doctor, someone I’ve never met, then I curl up on the sofa with my morbidly, health obsessed imagination.
It’s night time again and I lie in bed pushing and prodding my chest, I’m trying to work out where the pain is coming from. Later I decide I don’t have a lump and my attention returns to the other vital organs in my chest cavity.
The Very Young Lady Doctor
She asks lots of questions, the first being “What do you think it is?” The question sent alarm bells ringing as I realise she’s isn’t going to take me seriously; she thinks it’s all in my head. Perhaps she’s already read my file and noticed my obsession with an itch the one I experienced following the death of my hubby and which I documented on here some months ago.
She listens to my heart, but not my chest and unlike me, she doesn’t carry out the physical examination of poking and prodding and neither does she offer a suggestion to the cause. Finally, she announces that it doesn’t appear to be anything serious and she’s certain it isn’t caused by something we should be worried about.
Well, if she’d read my trail of thought bubbles she would have seen the light and known immediately that we have rather a lot to worry about!