I am not neurotic. I am also not a hypochondriac.
So why, a person might ask, did I (a non-neurotic non-hypochondriac) spend 3 hours of my Monday evening (and a $100 co-pay) at the Arlington Urgent Care Center on Carlin Springs Road, waiting to speak with a doctor who would take one look at my arm, tell me (very nicely) that hives weren't really an emergency situation and "prescribe" benedryl and cortizone 10 (two over-the-counter medications)? What would lead a perfectly reasonable girl to believe a skin rash was certain death.
That's a very good question and the answer is a simple one - the internet scared the crap out of me.
On Sunday evening my good friend Maria offered to highlight my winter-blah hair and, wanting to look pretty (because I'm a girl and, let's face it, we all want to look pretty), I accepted eagerly. Perhaps it was the overly inflated ego of my new blond streaks or just the fun of hanging out with two great friends, but it wasn't until I was walking back into my apartment 3 hours later, that I noticed how unbelievably itchy my head was.
I woke in the middle of the night to an itchy stomach.
Before my morning run it was my left leg.
Doing my sit-ups I couldn't stop scratching my feet.
By the time I left for work at 8 AM, my hand was the problem.
My body was clearly not happy with me and seemed to be throwing a bit of a tantrum (and the welts were there to prove it). Since it all started with an itchy scalp, it seemed as if the dye activity the night before may be source of the problem. I decided (out of curiosity more than anything else) to do a quick web search when I arrived at my desk.
I could never, in a million years, have imagined the level of paranoia that 3 simple words "hair dye allergy" typed into google could illicite in the mind of this (typically) level-headed girl.
Within seconds, I was reading horrific testimonials of women who survived (yes, survived) allergic reactions to PPD (a common ingredient in hair dye which also just happens to be a common allergin). Some women had scratched their scalps to the point of drawing blood....some spoke of sleepless nights for weeks and weeks.... A few described eyelids swollen to the point of not being able to see. For a few, the chemical caused their faces to swell up like balloons and a couple of women had to go to the emergency room because their throats swelled shut and they couldn't breath. Many of the sites even went the extra mile offering lovely pictures of welts and swollen faces.
Of course, all of the articles and sites I found had disclaimers that the vast majority of cases were not serious and didn't require medical attention...but I had pretty much convinced myself that I was going to die.
As the day went on, the fears grew into internal panic. With Dave working in NY all week, there would be nobody in the apartment that night to hear me wheezing when my throat started to close. When I didn't show up for work on Tuesday morning, my coworkers would probably worry and try calling my cell. After trying to reach me all morning, they would eventually send somebody over to check on me...but by then it would be too late.
So, urgent care was, in my mind, the only real option.
The intake nurse listened to my story...he was sympathetic but didn't seem quite as worried as I thought he should be. "Well, at least your hair looks nice!" he smiled. I wasn't super amused.
As I sat in the waiting room I looked at everyone else waiting before me - none of them looked all that sick...none of them looked like they were going to die! I really thought I should get priority - I was having a very serious allergic reaction.
The doctor, clearly delighted to get an easy case in the middle of flu season, reassured me that, most likely, if my throat was going to swell up it would have done so already...and I would probably have a temperature...and I would be at the ER and not Urgent Care. She did give me a "prescription" for Benedryl (with dosage and timing information). Yep, she actually wrote out a prescription for over the counter medication...I think she was just trying to appease my panic.
So, here I sit, waiting for the itching to stop, enjoying my highlights (safe to say the last highlights I will ever have)and thinking about all of the ways I could have spent the $100 co-pay lost on Monday night to a non-life threatening problem.
You would think I'd have learned from the last time I tried to self diagnose myself using the internet and almost scared myself into going to the ER (trust me, don't ever, ever, ever search for "dull pain; back of head" because that particular symptom can be a sign of a lot of really, really scary things).
Isn't the internet wonderful?
So why, a person might ask, did I (a non-neurotic non-hypochondriac) spend 3 hours of my Monday evening (and a $100 co-pay) at the Arlington Urgent Care Center on Carlin Springs Road, waiting to speak with a doctor who would take one look at my arm, tell me (very nicely) that hives weren't really an emergency situation and "prescribe" benedryl and cortizone 10 (two over-the-counter medications)? What would lead a perfectly reasonable girl to believe a skin rash was certain death.
That's a very good question and the answer is a simple one - the internet scared the crap out of me.
On Sunday evening my good friend Maria offered to highlight my winter-blah hair and, wanting to look pretty (because I'm a girl and, let's face it, we all want to look pretty), I accepted eagerly. Perhaps it was the overly inflated ego of my new blond streaks or just the fun of hanging out with two great friends, but it wasn't until I was walking back into my apartment 3 hours later, that I noticed how unbelievably itchy my head was.
I woke in the middle of the night to an itchy stomach.
Before my morning run it was my left leg.
Doing my sit-ups I couldn't stop scratching my feet.
By the time I left for work at 8 AM, my hand was the problem.
My body was clearly not happy with me and seemed to be throwing a bit of a tantrum (and the welts were there to prove it). Since it all started with an itchy scalp, it seemed as if the dye activity the night before may be source of the problem. I decided (out of curiosity more than anything else) to do a quick web search when I arrived at my desk.
I could never, in a million years, have imagined the level of paranoia that 3 simple words "hair dye allergy" typed into google could illicite in the mind of this (typically) level-headed girl.
Within seconds, I was reading horrific testimonials of women who survived (yes, survived) allergic reactions to PPD (a common ingredient in hair dye which also just happens to be a common allergin). Some women had scratched their scalps to the point of drawing blood....some spoke of sleepless nights for weeks and weeks.... A few described eyelids swollen to the point of not being able to see. For a few, the chemical caused their faces to swell up like balloons and a couple of women had to go to the emergency room because their throats swelled shut and they couldn't breath. Many of the sites even went the extra mile offering lovely pictures of welts and swollen faces.
Of course, all of the articles and sites I found had disclaimers that the vast majority of cases were not serious and didn't require medical attention...but I had pretty much convinced myself that I was going to die.
As the day went on, the fears grew into internal panic. With Dave working in NY all week, there would be nobody in the apartment that night to hear me wheezing when my throat started to close. When I didn't show up for work on Tuesday morning, my coworkers would probably worry and try calling my cell. After trying to reach me all morning, they would eventually send somebody over to check on me...but by then it would be too late.
So, urgent care was, in my mind, the only real option.
The intake nurse listened to my story...he was sympathetic but didn't seem quite as worried as I thought he should be. "Well, at least your hair looks nice!" he smiled. I wasn't super amused.
As I sat in the waiting room I looked at everyone else waiting before me - none of them looked all that sick...none of them looked like they were going to die! I really thought I should get priority - I was having a very serious allergic reaction.
The doctor, clearly delighted to get an easy case in the middle of flu season, reassured me that, most likely, if my throat was going to swell up it would have done so already...and I would probably have a temperature...and I would be at the ER and not Urgent Care. She did give me a "prescription" for Benedryl (with dosage and timing information). Yep, she actually wrote out a prescription for over the counter medication...I think she was just trying to appease my panic.
So, here I sit, waiting for the itching to stop, enjoying my highlights (safe to say the last highlights I will ever have)and thinking about all of the ways I could have spent the $100 co-pay lost on Monday night to a non-life threatening problem.
You would think I'd have learned from the last time I tried to self diagnose myself using the internet and almost scared myself into going to the ER (trust me, don't ever, ever, ever search for "dull pain; back of head" because that particular symptom can be a sign of a lot of really, really scary things).
Isn't the internet wonderful?
I got hives once and I had a similar feeling of ohh my god, I'm dying!! Funny how hives can do that to a person. Julie
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