People with anxiety know how it is — the least little thing can mean impending doom health-wise. Headaches are brain tumors, a slight stomach pain could be cancer. Bluish colored streaks on one’s neck could be God knows what, but surely awful (or it could be getting your recently dyed hair wet).
Today I was riding down the highway, on my way to pick up Baby Girl from preschool, when my bottom suddenly felt hot all over. Alarmed, I tried to feel around to see if I were suddenly bleeding out or something. That would be bad, because not only would I be bleeding out, the other car seat has been dismantled because Baby Girl intentionally puked all over it last night (and laughed) and Sam would have no way of getting her because I’d be at the hospital with the non-puked on car seat. Shit!
After swerving off the edge of the road and determining that there was no blood, I continued panicking. Why was my butt having a hot flash? Cancer? Maybe something slightly less bad like a side effect of one of my medications? Or an infection that I would have to figure out how to deal with on my own, since ain’t no way I’m going to a doctor for an infected butt region?
I freaked out some more, trying to come up with more reasons for my bottom being hot all over, and debated on going into a gas station bathroom, which I rarely do because that makes me feel like I’m dying, and checking myself out. Maybe I could use my phone camera to get a good look, only what if I accidentally hit the wrong buttons and went live on Facebook or something? Gah.
And then it hit me — we have the ability to heat the seats in our car. Being someone who suffers from chronic swampassitis for 6 or 7 months of the year, and having only bought this car around April (which is the beginning of the swampassitis season in SC), I’ve never used this particular option. And I probably never will. (And, side rant, why the hell isn’t there an option for the seats being air conditioned? If they can be heated, they should be able to be cooled, right?) So, maybe I wasn’t dying or anything, maybe the thing that heats the car seats was on.
I called Sam. “How do I check to see if the heated seat thing is on in the car? Is there a button or something?”
“Oh, yeah, sorry,” he said. “I turned it on. The button is underneath the radio and all that stuff.” I found it, saw the green light was lit, and turned it off. The heat on my bottom went away almost immediately. Crisis diverted!
Have you went into crisis mode over something that ended up being silly lately?