I got a lump on the inside of my jaw just below my lower incisors two months ago. While I was waiting for the day of my dentist appointment, I imagined how I had bone cancer, and would have to have my lower jaw removed, and be fed from a tube for the rest of my (numbered) days.
Good times.
Oh, it was something really common that the dentists see all the time. No worries!
My sister was convinced there was some sort of lump in her eye…or her brain…or something. She thought it was a tumor or some sort of uncontrolled growth, but I think it just turned out to be her forehead.
Doesn’t make a lot of sense, does it? That’s why hearing about it all the time was kind of a bummer.
A while back I noticed a rough patch of skin, the diameter of a pencil, on the side of one of my boobies. I managed to convince myself it was skin and/or breast cancer and since I couldn’t remember when it had first shown up, certainly it had metastasized and I was days from a painful, tragic death. My SO at the time reminded me of the mosquito bite I’d been scratching at a couple of days before… d’oh!
fizgig, I have one of those on the outside of my jaw. I’m hoping that once I get insured again I can get it removed. It’s really rather annoying because I know it’s there even if nobody else notices.
I have a very psychosomatic body. If I think about having an oral ulcer, I’ll have one in days (great, now I’m gonna get one). If I think about starting my period a week early, I generally will.
This particular example is both hypochondria and paranoia.
A few months back I went to the Louvre. We got there late, so I was rushed. I knew what time the museum closed, and I was starting to make my way to the “Sortie” when the lights started going off. At this point, I was in the Egyptian sarcophagus room. I panicked. I could see no museum people around, I was separated from my friend, and it was stuffy and dark. Obviously I wasn’t going to get locked in with one of the largest art collections in the world, but my immediate fear was, “I’m going to get trapped in here, and when my body figures out it’s surrounded by dead bodies, I’m going to shrivel up and die of spontaneous bandwagon syndrome.”
Heh.