Monday, January 28, 2008

Visiting Morbidville

My mind lives in the land of Morbid. I have these dark thoughts. Often.

I am only going to tell you a few of my thoughts, lest I frighten you. I know they are scary because every now and then when I attempt to share with the hubs, he gets this look on his face like he is trying to remember the instructions to "How To Properly Buckle A Strait-Jacket" or "Three Easy Steps to Installing Your Spouse in a Looney Bin." Then I shut up.

Like today. I felt a small lump in my armpit. We all know that's where the lymph nodes are, right? There is a cancer called lymphosarcoma. Its terrible. Infiltrates the whole body. Well, by 3:00 today I was convinced that is what I had. I was already planning my trip to Atlantis in the Bahamas (snorkeling, dolphins, sand!) and then after the trip I would let the hubs in on my TRUE reason for our going.

Hubs gets home from work. He is changing clothes. I announce, "I have a painful lump under my arm. Its probably cancer." The look comes over his face. I then strip off my top to adequately show him said lump (yes, he made a few comments about checking my other, more obvious, lumps - the man NEVER takes me seriously!). That's when I remembered the time I went to the doctor - prepared for the Big C because of another small painful lump and found out it was an ingrown hair. I then told him about my plans for Atlantis to which he replied, "You actually planned all this?"

me: "Yes! What do you think about all day?"
Hubs: "Work."
me: "Is it my fault I can multi-task?"

There was the time I went to the doctor convinced I had cancer because my foot was killing me. The doc had hardly turned my foot over when he casually announces, "You have a plantar's wart." Yes, I was relieved it wasn't cancer but I was quite offended that he said I had a wart. I had never had a wart and (apologies now to all of you wart people) but only yucky people - toad huggers - got warts (I have seen the light and know this not to be true - because I have now officially suffered through a wart).

Then there was the time I was convinced I had arthritis. My walking days were numbered. A wheelchair was in my near future.

Doctor: "You have plantar's fasciitis. Stop running, change your shoes, rest."

I give out funeral arrangements to my friend's too. Is that morbid?

"Please play REO Speedwagon's "Time For Me to Fly" but explain to the throngs of people that the entire song isn't appropriate for the funeral."

"Don't let just anyone do my hair if there is an open casket. And, NO blue eyeshadow!"

And, a favorite of my mother's when I was growing up, "Hey mom, if I am ever decapitated you can identify me by the birth mark on my ankle."

Some call it morbid - I call it good planning.


  • OMG--this was hilarious. Well, I have had plantar fascia and a planters' wart. But, I have not planned my funeral music or what my loved ones should do in case of decapitation. I suppose I should get right on that, eh? (grin)

    By Blogger Crazy MomCat, at 1/28/2008 10:06 PM  

  • You're visiting? I LIVE in Morbidville. It's kind of nice here. :-)

    By Blogger Type (little) a, at 1/29/2008 12:05 AM  

  • This is so me---going from A to Z in about a second. And it's always the worst case scenario. I guess that's why I am the keeper of Debbie's funeral plans - she has found a kindred spirit. Or another very sick one! :-)

    By Anonymous tlc, at 1/29/2008 6:40 AM  

  • Ummm ya my dad had that form of cancer. He's still alive even after 2 heart attacks. I don't think you have cancer. I think you have a swollen lymph node. Take some tylenol for the swelling and try to think a little more positive.


    By Anonymous Anonymous, at 1/29/2008 8:22 AM  

  • I think you should have met him at the door with your top already stripped off. He would remember that for a long time and every now and then remember why you did it.
    The morbid thoughts are probably a reflection about how much you are enjoying life and don't want to lose it.
    On the positive side, the big C isn't the death sentence it used to be. There are a lot of success stories out there.
    Back in the 70's one of the bits in my stand-up act was about "losing our natural exits." That's much truer today.

    By Anonymous tank, at 1/29/2008 9:11 AM  

  • I've had the music planned for my funeral for years, and just recently asked a friend to speak... but only on the condition that he make people laugh... because he always made me laugh.

    He told me to let my family plan my funeral, to which I said.... Not!

    I just think it's better to be prepared. :-)

    By Blogger Brenda, at 1/29/2008 12:08 PM  

  • I call it morbid with a great sense of humor. The stuff that good blogs are made of. :)

    By Blogger Jess Riley, at 1/29/2008 9:37 PM  

  • I think it's very important to have plans.

    And you just cleared up about three medical mysteries I was currently worrying about on my own body. Dr. Debbie!

    By Blogger Candy, at 1/30/2008 9:05 AM  

  • We all visit Morbidville from time to time....for me it is the fear of going crazy, locco...insane. Everytime I watch the news and see the awful things crazy people do I send myslef into a frenzy of fears with the "oh God,what if I snap and go crazy like that wack-o" thoughts. In my mind, that is the worst thing that could ever happen to me. That's wierd isn't it? A little crazy perhaps? Oh I go again!!!

    By Anonymous Carol, at 1/30/2008 9:25 PM  

  • I think being morbid is an indication that you have a great imagination. Seriously. I see my death every day. I'll be going over a bridge and suddenly I lose control of my car and crash over the side... I'll be working at my desk when some pissed off ex-coworker comes in and shoots the place up... I'll be walking down the road when some rabid dog attacks and eats me...

    By Blogger Tink, at 2/01/2008 8:00 AM  

  • Oh, I do the very same thing. In fact, I've had a swollen lymph node from time to time. Means I'm fighting off a cold. But that doesn't stop me from worrying myself sick in the wee hours. ;^)

    By Blogger B.E.C.K., at 2/02/2008 9:36 AM  

  • I feel your pain. I could have written that very post, albeit not as well :) I suspect my doctor will eventually take out a restraining order. Thanks for the laughs!

    By Anonymous Jennifer, at 2/07/2008 2:56 PM  

  • I picked my funeral song too and told my husband. He gave me 'the look' and ignored me. I agree with you. It's just good planning. :)

    By Blogger J. Hi, at 2/15/2008 9:44 AM  

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