worry-worting
Something a lot of people who don't know me as well--or who only met me in the last couple years--are often not aware of is that I'm a bit of a hypochondriac. I have had epic freak-outs in the past.
Combine this with the fact that when I was seventeen I was diagnosed with fibrocystic breat disease . . . for those you not familiar with it, that means I sometimes get noncancerous cysts that just sort of appear, disappear, and move around. Coffee supposedly makes it worse. I'm supposed to be careful with my self-exams and watch to see if any cysts seem to be growing bigger and acting abnormally, but it's not supposed to be a big deal. It doesn't actually increase my chances of getting breast cancer.
The first time I found a cyst was pretty terrifying though.
Anyway, I'll admit that I have not always been very good about the self-exams, and that I have probably missed a few cysts in the past. I also suspect that the time I was on the pill helped keep them fewer for a number of years.
Point is, I hadn't actually found any more of them since that terrifying first one back in high school. Until today. I know that I shouldn't freak out about it and should just keep up with regular self-exams and watch what the cysts do. This is something that can be perfectly normal for me. I know that I shouldn't be worried and freaking out.
But I am a worry-wort and a hypochondriac, and it is really scary when I contemplate worst case scenarios. So I am worrying and freaking out, and as understandable as the reason for it is, I really wish I could stop.
Anyway, I'm done angsting and tmiing for a bit. I hope.