It's funny when they call your bluff, isn't it? The doctors, I mean.
I went in for a routine blood pressure check this morning, and while I was there I mentioned some annoying heart palpitations I've been having on and off for the last month or so (which have secretly being making me crazy. Crazier).
I've had palpitations for as long as I can remember (usually when I'm overtired or stressed out of my gourd), and was checked out very thoroughly 17 years ago when they seemed particularly frequent to me. Everything was normal. Benign, even.
The thing is, it didn't really stop me from worrying about it. My mind is like that. Impenetrable to anything even remotely resembling relief or reassurance.
I was hoping she'd slough off my fears, wave her hand dismissively and tell me it was stress. All in my head. Nothing to worry about.
Instead she said, "Hmmmmmm", looked concerned and listened to my ticker intently.
It seemed normal (kind of like Michigan J. Frog, who'll only sing for the guy who opens up the time capsule), but just to be sure, I'm scheduled for a heart monitor hook up in the next few days.
Two weeks with a portable monitor making me even more aware of my fluttering heart than I already am.
Except that maybe this time if nothing is wrong, I'll believe it.
Shut up. I might.