As a kid, I was pretty healthy. I never broke a bone, I never had to go to the ER: nothing serious. I had the usual illnesses like colds, the flu, and chicken pox, but overall, things were pretty normal.
Fast forward to my adult years. Things were pretty status quo until I got married. (Does that mean I get to blame Trevor for my issues?) Since being with Trevor, my surgery quotient has definitely been on the rise. In January of 2007, I had my first C-section. (Trevor's fault.) That was followed by another C-section in September of 2008. (Again, Trevor's fault.) A mere five months later, I had my gallbladder removed after months and months of lots of pain. (The doctor said that having close pregnancies can cause gallbladder issues, so I can indirectly blame Trevor for that.) Somehow, I made it through 2010 with no real concerns other than two nutty kids. 2011 brought shoulder surgery for a torn labrum. The first time I hurt myself, it was at the Porter County Fair on as ride. Yep, I hurt myself on a fair ride. I was trying to twist the steering wheel of a teacup ride while my right arm while holding Dallas steady with my left arm. (I can blame Trevor for that because he was in Lexington working while I was in Valpo with the kids. Sketchy, I know, but I'm going to roll with it.) Then in late 2011, my hairdresser noticed a few bumps on my scalp and advised me to get them checked out. I went to the dermatologist who told me that I had a staph infection. WHAT? How does a stay-at-home-mom get a staph infection? I don't know, either. ( Unfortunately, I can't blame Trevor for that one. Sigh.)
As if that hasn't been enough, it seems as though I have gotten seriously clumsy in 2012. In the first 13 days of this year, I have burned my arm on a baking rack in the oven, fallen on the ice while taking out the garbage cans and smashing my head against one, and I burned my lips on some sort of corrosion when I was trying to change the batteries in an old flashlight. It's like my brain has turned to some sort of fuzzy mush this year. Maybe the Apocalypse really is coming.
Let's add one more, shall we? While we were visiting my family in Valpo over the holidays, I had a few days of terrible headaches and nausea. I soon started to realize that I wasn't sick to my stomach, but there was a really weird lump in my throat that was causing me to feel nauseous. And I have never been one to have headaches, so that was a little disconcerting. I made an appointment to see my doctor in Lexington, and she advised me to get an ultrasound of my neck. The ultrasound results showed a multinodal enlargement of my thyroid. In other words, I have a goiter. Oh. Em. Gee. A goiter??? That's totally not what I was expecting. So next Thursday, I have to go have a Fine-Needle Aspiration of the nodules at Central Baptist Hospital. I'm not really worried; my doctor said that 99% of multinodular goiters are benign. I have to go by myself, though, because Trevor has to stay home with the kids. (Speaking of Trevor, I can't blame The Goiter on him. I'm looking for a way, though, so I'll let you know.) For now, though, I'm using The Goiter to my advantage: "I get to choose what we watch on TV tonight; I have a goiter, you know."
None of these are terribly serious matters, but they do make me realize that I'm getting older and I need to take good care of myself. I want to be around as long as possible so I can laugh hysterically when my kids call me for advice about their own nutty kids. Isn't that what being a grandparent is all about?