Wednesday, July 14, 2010

Paranoia Big Destroyer

The Glass Castle: A MemoirI love a good autobiography or memoir. I am not interested in Brad Pitt's story or any other celebrity or politician. I respect their work but reading a story as interpreted by their ghost writer is not for me. Give me a regular person who has a good story to tell. My absolute favorite book is The Glass Castle: A Memoir by Jeanette Walls. They fought over a stick of butter to eat and she made her own braces! It doesn't get any more riveting for me.

I love hearing stories from my friends about their childhoods or funny things that happened to them at work. Once in awhile people will discuss their ailments or health issues with their kids and therein lies the problem. I will listen to you and give words of encouragement or sympathy and feel truly empathetic but a tiny voice inside my head is already hard at work. This tiny voice is freaking out that the same thing is wrong with LO. I begin shifting uneasily counting down the minutes until I can begin researching all of the warning signs on the Internet.

I will then search every blog, discussion board and health site if she displays any of the signs until I am convinced that something has to be wrong. How could we have been so naive to think that she will outgrow her respiratory issue or that the sacral dimple is really just a dimple?! Obviously, the doctors know nothing and my mama skills as a self proclaimed specialist are superior.

Calls and emails will begin to the DH announcing that she will need to wear special shoes or that her speech is going to be delayed or that a helmet is in her future. He patiently listens and then asks if we can discuss at a later time when he is not in the middle of a meeting. His usual responses include, "We will just have to see," or "She is fine, stop worrying," or "You are going to die from a heart attack with how much you stress." My all time favorite line, "I don't need to worry about anything as you have both of us covered."

Last night, DH came home as I was in bed and finally relaxing after a recent bout of paranoia and expected him to throw me one of the typical lines. But he admitted that he was worried as well and also did paranoid research on the Internet!! I have created a monster like myself. Who will talk us off the ledge? Who will be the voice of reason? Who will keep LO from becoming Bubble Girl?