I’m a mom. I feel no physical pain that I can not ignore or dismiss.
Mind over matter. Right?
For a while.
After too many weeks, I broke down and made an appointment with the doctor because of a tenderness/pain in my lower back. I had dismissed it as a sign that I simply needed to stretch more. Or better. Or at least be more thorough about it.
Maybe I just need to run more. Or better. Or less.
The denial had run its own course.
I knew it was time to make the appointment because I had resorted to self-diagnosis of the worst kind.
Yep. Right. I typed in my symptoms and searched Google .
According to my research, I had some rare disease contracted only on the remote island of Bouvet.
While keyboarding for a diagnosis…I started sneezing, felt my sinuses begin to ache, heard my voice fading…till it was gone. I chalked it up to the stress of treating my rare disease.
Right. Contracted only on the remote island of Bouvet. My husband was no support when I shared my concern. He laughed at me.
I made it to the doctor’s office. She assumed I was there for my cold.
“Oh, I don’t have a cold.”
“I’m here for a professional diagnosis,” I whispered, not at all out loud.
Although I knew what was going on with me, I figured I’d let her confirm it.
I went home with a referral for physical therapy, some ibuprofen, directions to apply heat to that rare disease of mine…and an antibiotic.
Sure, I would’ve said no thank you to the antibiotic. If I had a voice.
I am a mom. I am tough. I’m not a martyr. Bring on the meds! Thank you, doctor.
Doctor’s professional diagnosis? A pulled muscle. Probably.
She called my strained voice… pharyngitis, fairly common.
My husband calls it an uncommon gift.
A gift to him from his friends on the remote island of Bouvet.
I didn’t laugh. I couldn’t.
I was speechless.