I’m a hypochondriac: Part deux

So, my hypochondriac phase wasn’t over after taking that pregnancy test on Monday, because I was still awaiting the results of another test… HIV. I am such a hypochondriac and superstitious person that I couldn’t blog about waiting for the results of my HIV test as well as a pregnancy test, because I didn’t want to jinx myself by putting it out into the universe through some form of creative visualization. In this case, it’d be a hypochondriac medical visualization, which is very rare, but possible with any hypochondriac. I had watched I Love You Philip Morris on Saturday evening, while sick, and Jim Carey’s character fakes that he has AIDS to leave jail and be transferred to a hospital so he could fake his death and leave (sorry if anyone hasn’t seen it). Then, the following day, while I was still sick, two people suggested that maybe I had AIDS. I know AIDS isn’t something funny to joke about, and I even feel terrible writing about it, but it’s a part of my story on being tested. Anyways, I have been wondering for the past 48 hours if I were pregnant or had HIV (since my mom told me yesterday that peeing on a stick isn’t always accurate for a pregnancy test; causing my hypochondria to sky-rocket into me leaving the UCB theater on Harold night after 2 acts because I felt ‘pregnant’ and had to go home) and was waiting to call my Doctor’s office Wednesday morning. I couldn’t fall asleep for 2 hours after laying down because I was hoping that everything was going to be OK, and had to drink some NyQuil.

Today was Wednesday morning. I woke up at 10:30am and called the Doctor’s office unenthusiastically, while Megan held my hand in bed. Her other hand was in a cast.

Me: “Hi, calling to find out the results of my test…”

Receptionist: “Well…. we… Doctor Rooney isn’t hear today and she is supposed to discuss the results with you. We… haven’t gotten them yet… but maybe we will at the end of the day.”

What the fuck did that mean? That didn’t sound good. She sounded like she was fucking with me. I didn’t like it. I fell back asleep and had a missed call from the doctor’s office and called back at noon.

Me: “Hi, I had a missed call….”

Receptionist: “Yes, your results came back. For pregnancy….you…..are….neeeeeeegative. For strept throat, it came back negative. And… for HIV………………………………………………….you are ok.”


Receptionist: “Yes, you are negative on all three.”

WHY DID SHE PAUSE SO LONG? I am not exaggerating, each of those ‘periods of pause’ felt like ten seconds in between. I don’t get why they do that. Then a reality camera busted in through the room and it was MTV’s Scared Straight, and an obnoxious host, this time played by Justin Bieber, who made me realize they really had me there. Nah, that didn’t happen. But I wish it did.

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