Sometimes I worry that I'm becoming a hypochondriac.

Case in point - two years ago, I threw out my back. Couldn't sit for a week, so I pretty much laid flat on my back for a week and read Kresley Cole novels. Ever since then, if I ever get a twinge in my back, I am concerned that I'll be laid flat again for a week. It worries me. If no one would look at me strange for wearing a protective brace over my clothing, I would! But...that would be weird.

Another story. A person in my family recently had surgery to remove part of her thyroid because of thyroid issues. I knew another lady that had thyroid problems, and hers bulged from the base of her throat. Lately, I find myself constantly stroking the base of my throat to make sure mine has remained a normal size. I haven't asked my husband to compare thyroids...yet. But I probably will.

The other day I woke up with a crick in my neck. Again, I worried about my back (I'm very protective of my spine as I had surgery on it a long time ago). I woke up one morning with a dry knot at the back of my throat and was convinced that one of my vertebrae had slipped and was pushing on my throat and I would 1) Choke to death because my throat would be too closed or 2) be bound to a bed just as soon as my spine finished freeing itself from my body.

My husband laughed at my fears. A lot. He also pointed out it might have been my old flat pillow causing the crick in my neck.

(He was right)

The worry is not just confined to my back, though! My teeth are extremely sensitive, and I often go back to the dentist, swearing that I have a cracked tooth or need a root canal. He sends me away, because nothing's wrong with my teeth. I think he is starting to regret taking me on as a patient.

Or my dermatologist! He thinks I'm crazy. I went to him a few months ago because I had a mole on my arm. I've always had this mole, but I noticed that when I accidentally scratched it...it hurt! A lot! So I went to see him. I pointed out the mole and told him I had cancer. In retrospect, maybe it's not that big of a mole, but how do I know? Anyhow, he looked at it, and then looked at me with the My-God-She's-Crazy look. Said I was fine. I told him it hurt when I scratched it.

He said to stop scratching it.

(Can't argue with that.)

And I swear I'm not crazy. I'm really not. Most of these fears are temporary and easily laughed away. I think I'm just hitting that age where things are starting to show their wear and tear. I'm heading towards middle age, and it's on my mind a lot. I think this accounts for the hypochondria more than anything else. Not to mention that in the age of google, no one ever has benign symptoms anymore. A pulled muscle in your leg could be a sign of vitamin deficiency...OR LEPROSY.

Who doesn't know someone that has a story along the lines of, "Bob went to the doctor because his ankle was hurting...AND IT WAS CANCER." Couple that in with shows like 'House' and the gloom and doom constantly on the news...I am surprised that we're ALL not hypochondriacs nowdays.

And if you ever see me and I'm wearing some protective brace and can't turn my neck? Well. YOU KNOW WHY.