I was diagnosed with super ventricular tachycardia when I was six years old. I had surgery to correct it at 12 years old. I had a staph infection three different times in three different places. I had a seizure in front of the White House at 11 years old, and last summer I was diagnosed with Lyme disease, a severe mosquito allergy and a salivary gland infection… all at the same time. I tend to be prone to any disease that you have ever heard of and because of that I am a self-diagnosed hypochondriac to the fullest extent.

When I was first diagnosed with my heart condition at six years old, I didn’t think much of it other than it sucked that I couldn’t have chocolate and I didn’t like it when my heart would beat fast for no reason. For a long time, my daily medication worked and we didn’t ask any questions. It wasn’t until I started seriously playing sports in middle school that my episodes started happening again. A lot of the time, I feared more that I would be forced to come out of the game than actually worrying about the episode.

I had surgery to correct the issue in my heart and all was well. I have not had a single episode since and my cardiac checkups have been perfect. Unfortunately, you never quite forget the feeling of having your heart beat like it’s going to pop out of your chest to the point that it makes it hard to breathe. I was scared. I knew that I was fine, but that didn’t stop those feelings. It got to the point that while at a family reunion in the middle of South Dakota I told my parents that I felt like I was dying and I needed to go to the hospital.

My mom drove me to the hospital and as we pulled into the parking lot, I realized that my heart rate had completely slowed down and my breathing had gone back to normal. The doctor told me that I had likely had a panic attack and told me to breath deeply next time this happened. He also taught me how to take my own pulse in the event that I was ever worried my heart rate was too fast.

As time went on, I got a lot better. I didn’t worry as much when my heart was racing during games. In fact I thrived on it because it just meant that I was healthy and my heart could handle those moments. I’ll admit there were still times when I would lay in bed holding my wrist just counting the number of my own heart beats, but that was more for comfort than anything.

My hypochondria got to the point that it became an ongoing joke among my close family and friends. My grandpa loves to reminisce about answering the door in his underwear in the middle of the night in Spearfish, South Dakota to be told that I was being taken to the Spearfish Emergency Room on claims of heart malfunctions.

Last summer when my family was vacationing in Northern Wisconsin as we always do in August, I started getting horrible mosquito bites that would turn into the size of golf balls, running up and down my legs. It got to the point that my mom took me to the doctor who simply told me to take some Claritin and wear long pants. Well, that worked for about a week until the side of my face blew up as if I had a ball of socks jammed in the side of my mouth. My family was convinced that I had gotten a bug bite in my mouth or maybe I was just allergic to something else.

My mother was so adamant that this was just another hypochondriac episode and I would be fine. Well, the side of my face blew up so much that I began crying because it felt like my cheek was about to explode. After my parents decided that another trip to the doctor may be in order, we got in the car for another journey to a rural Emergency Room.

As the doctor examined my face, he explained that I had a salivary gland infection and I would need to suck on lemons to relieve that pressure. Oh, and also that bulls-eye shaped rash on my leg is likely Lyme Disease and I should probably take some antibiotics for that.

I spent the rest of my vacation sucking on lemons and taking antibiotics that made me sensitive to the sun. I was able to sit inside with an ice pack on my cheek, enjoy some lovely naps and watch a few episodes of Fox News with my grandpa.

I spent a lot of time sucking on my lemons, wondering why on earth I was being subjected to all of these diseases and disorders that ultimately only worsened my hypochondria and soon I began thinking how lucky I am. Yes, in that moment, the swelling in my cheek really hurt and my lyme disease drugs made me feel like passing out every other hour, but I recognized that there are so many people in the world going through so much worse.

In every moment that I have been sick, there has been someone there to help or protect me. That doctor in Wisconsin may have recognized the Lyme Disease better than any other doctor would have because he lived in the woods, or the weird coincidence that I had a seizure in front of the White House and the amazing White House doctor came out to tend to me.

I am pretty unlucky in terms of my weird medical history, but I am also incredibly blessed to have a family that loves me and parents who are always willing to take me to the E.R. at 1am. My advice to any other hypochondriac would be to always remember that you have someone that cares for you and someone who will protect you. Also, stop reading WebMD. One time I had a pain in my neck and the internet told me I was likely having a stroke and to seek medical attention. Whether you’re really going through a medical emergency or just having an anxiety attack, simply taking a step back to breathe has always made a big difference for me.

Salivary Gland Infection- Day 2