Pushing Ahead Full-Throttle

The Matron doesn't even need to take this online quiz. She knows what she is. Indeed, approximately one quarter of her very fine brain consists of the very unique Hypochondriacal Lobe.

She knows some of you have one. Bless you, sisters.

So the Lobe is lubed, friends. She of the delicate Implant is already constantly on guard against the dreaded Pressure on Tooth, Gum Disease or General tooth Could Potentially Fall Out any Second Problem.

Then there's this.

The whole issue of little Merrick-Man's visit with the pediatric cardiologist. Why is there always good news and bad news? The good news is that his little pumper looks fine! The ultrasound showed all clogs and kluges (arteries and veins and such) formed and flowing perfectly.

But his little rat-a-tat-tat? That odd gallop? In most people, 2-3% of total heartbeats are irregular. If the heart beats irregularly for 10% of its beats or more? Then it's a problem. And Merrick's little blips were pretty persistent. So Thursday, he gets a heart monitor for 24 hours!

This has caused that child no end of anxiety. (remember to transcribe those L's and R's into W's)

"Wiww it huwt?"

"Can I swim?"

"Can I wun?"

"Can I eat?"

"Can I stiww sweep naked?"

He really Truly, Madly, Deeply (oh my GOD -- see that movie if you haven't) does not want those wires attached to his chest. He would have none of the cardiologist's "oh you're going to be the coolest cat at school" pitch.

His presence during the entire two hour visit was solemn, suspicious and nearly wordless. Tonight, that child took the Matron's heart in his hands and winnowed it to putty. He laid on the rug in the bathroom, held his tummy and said: "I am wowwied about my heawt."

And this broke the Matron's, because she has been very very careful to play this whole issue light and mark the tests to precaution (because her rational brain, which dictates behavior around children (except the preteen) says this is true -- it's nothing).

Now if this isn't enough to keep the Hypochondriacal Lobe humming along (it works on her children too, even if it must try to fly under the radar), there's that dratted Global Pandemic. She doesn't care if the word isn't official: the word has landed on her ears, thus on the Lobe and therefore, Fuel Eternal.



So she is not making this juice up. She's at CVS waiting for a prescription and within a 10 minute time span, three people walk in looking for Tamaflu and surgical masks. There were none.

But this gave the Matron pause. She hadn't considered Preparation.

What if there's a run on homeopathic flu remedies? And if Kimchi cured Bird Flu? Well! Pigs are just a stone's throw in genetic structure (or so goes the Lobe). Really -- have you looked hard at a bird and a pig lately? There are just a few feathers between them.

Standing in line at CVS and watching the first stirrings of the masses' panic, the Matron knew that if she couldn't get mask and Tamaflu, she must immediately STOCK UP on Oscillococcinum and Kimchi.

This is the part of the story where she's on the cell phone to John and he says, "Please tell me you didn't. Fermented cabbage?"

She did.

Oddly, there was ooodles and ooooodles of homepathic potential and life-saving cabbage on the shelves of Whole Foods. The Matron was expecting police and riot gear. But the copious amounts of supply and query by the cashier: "Wow, your family must really be sick" led the Matron to believe that, just once, she beat everybody to the punch. Is leading the way.

She even managed to feel smug, beating the masses. Don't come knocking at her door when you are mourning your cabbage status!