Worst-Case Scenario Thinking

Oh, here I go again. I have no idea what to write. Well, sit down and prepare yourself for a half a page of dithering and fumfuh-ing. Or don’t, it’s OK, you can skip this one. I won’t care. I’m just writing to get my word count in.

What’s on my mind tonight? I haven’t been feeling too well this week. Heartburn and gas. Yeah. I’m going, to be honest about my body. I’m also a bit feverish, too. Really warm and a little dizzy, so there’s clearly something going on internally. I’ve got a doctor’s appointment on Monday for a general physical, but it looks like it’s going to turn in to “Hey, Doc, I’ve got these symptoms, can you take a look?”

At least I have health insurance, and decent-ish health insurance, so I’m not even paying a co-pay for a visit. It’s covered. That’s good. But in the back of my mind, because I live in America and know how the American medical system works, I know that there’s a possibility that, if it turns out I have something seriously wrong with me, it could cost me thousands and thousands of dollars. That’s a very real, and very realistic fear that broke-ass Americans like me have to consider.

Because I have the Inner Negative Voice, too, that worry only grows and grows if I am not vigilant. My friends will tell you that I am often the one who thinks things can only get worse, especially when it comes to my own life and my own health. I think about Worst-Case Scenarios. That’s my deal. My friends joke with me: “It’s not cancer!” they say. But I’ve known too many people, close to me, who have died from causes that started out non-threatening and straightforward and just grew and grew until their lives were snuffed out.

I miss them. I can’t not think about them. And my thoughts about their deaths colors how I feel about my body and how it feels. It can’t not.

I also can’t help but google my symptoms, and we all know that that’s just a golden road leading straight to Worst-Case Scenario Town. They should really think of better ways to describe symptoms so that we, the searchers, aren’t immediately plunged into the icy depths of OMG IT’S CANCER. What if it’s just a mole? Why not let us linger there, with a door cracked open to the room beyond where it might be something worse?

Oh, hey, there’s the part of my brain that’s trying to make things better. I’m genuinely happy he’s made an appearance. I like knowing that the doom and gloom isn’t my whole being. If I keep typing past the initial negative thoughts, I do eventually reach the optimistic, can-do, let’s-fix-it, Brian. He’s a good guy if a little distracted and shy to come out from under the covers sometimes.

That’s the lesson for tonight. Just keep typing and eventually something will happen. I mean, I’ve learned that lesson over and over again as I’ve worked on this experiment. I’ve learned that lesson over and over again down through the years. That lesson is at the very heart of the NaNoWriMo philosophy. And yet, I have to re-learn it, often, and frequently. I’m happy to do it, though.

Maybe someday it will stick with me?