When I was younger, I was indestructible. Or, at least I thought I was. All through my teens and twenties, I would routinely risk life and limb, cliff diving in Acapulco and driving at the speed of sound the wrong direction up one-way streets – all without a thought to the consequences if something were to go wrong. Old age has changed all that. And, I look that way too.
Nowadays, before I even open my eyes in the morning, I run through a comprehensive physical checklist prior to swinging my feet out of bed – lower back: check. Right and left knees: check. Feet and ankles: check. Hands, wrists and elbows: check. Head and neck: check. If my inventory passes muster, I’ll pad into the kitchen to make coffee. If it doesn’t, I’ll initiate a whirlwind of events, ultimately leading to my funeral.
My last episode began with an innocuous pain on the inside of my cheek. Most people would consider it a minor inconvenience, then get on with their day. Not me. I need to know exactly what’s wrong with me and how it’s going to impact the rest of my life. Could this be the beginning of what eventually takes me down? By running the tip of my tongue over the affected area, I began to manufacture enough symptoms to warrant researching the malady on WebMD. I’m not usually interested in what the discomfort is, but rather what it could be. WebMD has a handy symptom checker that lets me catalogue all of my daily aches and pains, saving them in a personal online profile on Facebook and Twitter. If anyone asks, “How are you today?” I can give them more information than they probably want.
Next, I clicked on the site’s body map. After zeroing in on the face (they didn’t ask if it was inside or outside), they presented a number of symptoms such as memory loss, drooping of one side of the face, uncontrolled flatulence, visible deformity, constipation, impotence as well as 20 others. The worst one I could find that fit the bill was mild pain and discomfort. Then I had to choose if it was dull or achy, burning or stinging, throbbing or none of the above. Since it was so early in the diagnostic process, I chose the latter.
After additional refinement of my symptoms, it ultimately suggested some possible diagnoses: trigeminal neuralgia, osteomyelitis, fractured eye socket, leprosy, salivary duct abscess, three types of cancer and a number of other lesser problems like sinusitis or toothache. But, I immediately ruled all of those out as too simple.
After some additional probing with a pair of French fry tongs, I decided to settle on trigeminal neuralgia – it had a nice ring to it and would sound good in my obituary. It also had the most potential for gathering sympathy and getting prescriptions for powerful painkillers and sedatives.
Now that I knew what the pain was, I needed to start planning how my TN was going to impact the rest of my life. Nothing I read said anything about how long I could expect to live with this life-threatening condition, so I decided to assume the worst – I only had a few months to live. That being the case, I started to get my house in order.
I went into Microsoft Outlook and generated a new email distribution group – “Friends to Receive Death Announcements.” That way, I could mass email the bad news to all of the people who still owed me money while I moved on to other important tasks. Since I wasn’t entirely sure how long I had to live, I thought I’d better get a haircut. It makes it so much easier for the mortician should you suddenly drop dead. And, given that it was likely to be a closed casket service, I cancelled my gym membership – no sense worrying about losing weight anymore. I also sold my car, skis, golf clubs, furniture and gave away all of my clothes except for one nice suit and a few hospital gowns I had left over from my last knee surgery. They could come in handy should I become bedridden toward the end.
I continued by cancelling my memberships to Dateafelon.com, REI, Jenny Craig, the Cheese of the Month Club, The National Rifle Association and submitted my three month notice for termination of service for my utilities, Internet access, cell phone service and NetFlix. Even if I ended up hanging around longer than I intended, they sometimes offer terminal patients discounts in their final hours, so it was worth the risk.
The next day, my symptoms actually started to subside a bit, so I used the end of a ball peen hammer to press against the side of my cheek until they returned. I found if I pressed hard enough, I could even cause some wicked discoloration which would look horrendous and confuse the dickens out of the Medical Examiner during my autopsy.
Over the next month, I struggled with my TN; no matter what I did, it seemed to get better. So, I started chewing beer cans and sleeping with a rolled up sock inside my mouth to try to recoup my symptoms. Unfortunately, no matter what I did, the pain began to subside. By the end of the week it was completely gone.
It’s been a while since I’ve woken up with any new complaints. That’s OK. I lost my job, and with it my medical insurance, so I’ll need to curtail all my visits to the doctor and the dozens of prescription medications that line my night stand. But I do have more free time to spend on WebMD now. In fact, I think I feel a new lump on the back of my neck…
