“Your boyfriend, he is doctor?”

Leila’s post this afternoon entitled, “Daymares” reminded me of a funny (in retrospect) incident that happened to me about six years ago. I was going through an extremely stressful time and suffering through a fairly intense bout of hypochondria and anxiety.

During a period of approximately one month, BF and I had moved and were still unpacking boxes, I was in the process of leaving one job and beginning a new one, and I also had to fly back and forth, twice from California to Pennsylvania, first when I realized how sick my dad was…and then again when he passed away. He was 85.

Gee…I wonder if real-life stressors have any causal link to my mental health?!?

Oops, forgot to mention that also just learned that my previous shrink had left Kaiser and the Psyche. Dept. was giving me real run around. I was calling every day for a little over a week to get an appointment, but kept getting told that they didn’t have a replacement for my doctor yet, they were already over-booked, there was no one available, etc.

I was sitting on the stairs one afternoon, checking symptoms and describing to BF all the potentially cancerous pain, tingling and swelling I was experiencing.

Suddenly it occurred to me that what was bothering me could be my lymph nodes! I hadn’t thought of it until that VERY moment. I offered him an area to feel and asked if this was a lymph node.

Without even feeling the offending spot, that SOB replied “Oh, if it’s your lymph nodes, then it’s lymphoma.” Aaaaarrrrggggghhhh! Upon hearing those words, my anxiety level spiked! The abyss opened in front of me…reeling, crawling skin, stomach dropping, sweating, heart pounding and shallow breathing accompanied by nausea.

I felt doom from my head to my toes.

The next morning I was having real trouble getting my shit together…sitting at the kitchen table pale, shaking and crying. God bless BF! He sat down next to me and said “You need help, NOW.” He then told me what to do - call the psyche. dept. one more time and tell them that if they couldn’t get me in that day to please let me know immediately so I could go directly to the emergency ward.

Amazingly I had an appointment less than 2 hours later!

I ended seeing a Psychiatrist who was even better than the one before. She was this wonderful, SERIOUS, Eastern European lady. No monkey business. When I told her about my conversation with BF about lymphoma, she stopped writing and without moving her head at all, looked at me above her reading glasses and in the most perfect “Bring me moose and squirrel” accent I ever heard, asked “Your boyfriend, he is doctor?”

“Uggh no, he’s an engineer.” I answered.

“I see,” she said went back to writing.

I don’t think there was any better response she could have given. I “GOT” it.