Huge thanks to my good friend Jana over at Boobies, Babies & A Blog for holding down the fort for me today. I just love that broad. I really do. She is just plain awesome and she wrote a post that’s going to make you laugh your fanny off today. If you love her like I do, check her out on Facebook and Twitter. If you wanna. And after reading this, I bet you will wanna.
Since Robin is off being enchanted at the Magic Kingdom, I’m here holding down the fort!
So I have a confession. I’m a MASSIVE hypochondriac. Of epic proportions. If you read my blog, this isn’t news to you-just go with it.
Every ache or pain I have, I’m certain life is coming to a quick and unexpected end for me. I’m not sure where this issue stems from. But I’m going to blame my Mom. Who has currently been dying of one ailment or another since 1984.
Technology hasn’t been of any assistance to me either. I actually have a PhD. From Google. I self diagnose EVERYTHING. Sometimes I’ve been right. But not as often as I’ve been wrong.
Take for example the time I had a kidney infection. I was pretty sure that I was dying of bladder cancer. All thanks to Google.
Then there was the time that I had these weird floaters in my vision. Following these strange vision disturbances, I would get a wicked bad headache. The Internet told me that I had a brain tumor. I raced to my eye doctor and family physician the same day. They both told me I was having migraines, not a brain tumor.
I won’t even go into the times I thought I had swine flu, glaucoma, various types of cancer, and herpes. (Okay, I never really thought I had herpes, but it just felt right to say that.)
My bestie, Carrie-always tells me to stay away from Google. She knows that it cripples me in ways that no one else quite understands.
Now I’m about to bare my soul, just for your own enjoyment. A couple of weeks ago while I was peeing, I discovered a small bump on my girlfriend. (Code for vagina.) Instantly, I was ill. Can one get peekachu cancer? I barely had my pants up before I sent a message to Carrie. “I have a bump on my vagina.” Carrie instantly texts back. “DO NOT GO ON GOOGLE!” Three seconds later my phone was ringing. It was Carrie, who was at work at the time. She talked me down from the ledge. “It’s probably a zit, Boobies. Calm down and don’t google it for fuck’s sake.” (Robin, can I say fuck here? Sorry to offend anyone. I’m just keepin it real!)
So there was my friend talking to me about my vagina while she was at work. She ended up being right. It was a zit. (Does Proactiv make something for that?) I’m not dying and my girlfriend is back in tip top shape.
What’s the moral to the story? Never google your ailments and always have a friend you can talk vag with!
It’s been a pleasure! Robin will be back soon with mouse ears for us all. Right, Robin?