Friday I had an appointment with my G.P. One of my guilty pleasures in life is reading trashy celebrity magazines. Reading them- not buying them. Disclaimer: I KNOW they are terrible and mindless and perpetuate unrealistic expectations of women's bodies and that because of these magazines celebrities get chased and followed relentlessly and often dangerously and that their lives are none of my business. But I will read them if I come across them. EXCEPT at the doctor's office because I'm a pretty serious germ-a-phobe. While waiting, I picked up a book from the bookshelf in the waiting room because in my mind, I thought there was less chance a sick person went to the trouble of walking across the waiting room, bending over because it was on the bottom shelf and selecting the book I chose. It was a book I remember from college (I had a minor in Women's studies) about women's bodies. I flipped through the chapters and stopped at the one regarding fibroid uterine tumors. This author had a theory that fibroid tumors were the result of all the creative ideas and dreams we had as women that went unfulfilled. Not hormones, not environmental factors, not genetics. Her explanation had no scientific basis at all. I have two problems with that, actually three:
1) Seriously, some of the ideas and dreams I have had have done me a service by remaining unfulfilled. If I had actually packed up my entire life and moved across the world after a two week whirlwind of a romance with a person who didn't even speak the same language as me - I can say with enormous clarity, that would not have been good.
2)I believe in the body=mind connection. I do. I wholeheartedly agree that the perceptions you have about your self and your body are connected to your health and your sense of well being, but I'm sorry, I just don't buy that explanation. If someone does, and it does them good to exercise those ideas and their fibroids go away, I'm thrilled for them.
3) My choice to pick up a book in the waiting room thinking no sick person would be over at the bookshelves with their sick germy fingers was SO WRONG. I came down with the stomach flu Sunday night for the second time since Christmas. You have no idea. If you thought my being a germ-a-phobe was a character flaw, I'm even worse of a puke-a-phobe. I think retching is the worst thing ever. I was so terrified of morning sickness that would linger for months on end and I spent many hours obsessing about the fact that a child in day care was going to exponentially increase my risk of coming down with the stomach flu. I came out lucky on the first part, no morning sickness for me, but as I expected, Ive been down and out-worshiping the porcelain god twice in the past three months, only, my boy didn't give this to me. It HAD to be some sicky at the Dr's office. You'd better believe I'm bringing my own reading material next time. Or better yet, all the sickies should just stay home.
