I had a nightmare scare recently. I'd been shaving my pubic region regularly for a while, and always got some ingrown hairs and bumps, but these weren't going away. So I called my friend in Michigan who's a doctor.
“Were you watching House again?”
“Yes, but that's not why I'm calling!”
She listened to me describe my symptoms, asked me several questions that she said she got from her super secret doctor website, said: “It's not herpes, you hypochondriac!” Needless to say I wasn't quite satisfied with this answer, but accepted it and spent the next week getting more and more nervous. She told me two more times it wasn't herpes before saying: “You should just go to the doctor if you're so damned worried!”
I expressed my continual forlorn wish that she was a doctor in Illinois and not Michigan and could take care of my hypochondriac ass in person. “Gotta dream the dream!” she said and hung up.
So I moved onto plan b. I called up a playmate of ours who's the head nurse at a hospital and she asked many similar questions (I want to know what their super secret website is!) then ALSO said it's not herpes.
But I wasn't calmed by any of this. These two were taking my word for the symptoms, and who really knows what a “tingly feeling radiating” means. And of course, I've spent PLENTY of time on webMD (which they both told me is NOT their super secret doctor website) looking up symptoms.
Marilyn also assured me it wasn't herpes, but allowed me to cancel our date that night, and indulged me when I wondered if she'd resent me if our “life was over…” (Though I'm sure I meant lifestyle there…I'm a bit dramatic at times)
My doctor was able to see me the next morning bright and early. This is the same doctor who grew noticeably cold when I told her I was non-monogamous. (Though, to be fair, I didn't specify HOW I was non-monogamous, so she probably is sure I'm cheating on my wife.)
“What's up today?”
“I've got some bumps…that concern me. You know, thought I'd get it looked at. Make sure it's not…herpes,” I told her in the most nonchalant voice I could muster. She said “let's have a look,” lifted the sheet and declared “you have folliculitus.”
“Are you sure?” I pleaded.
She gave me that look that doctors get when you challenge their diagnosis, poked at the bumps and said “Yeah, I'm sure.”
So, many weeks later, with my bumps gone away just as promised, I can breathe easy. But it's a terrifying moment, the herpes one…
Who else has had that scare?