Hypochondriacs Forever

As I’ve written elsewhere in this blog, a cancer diagnosis renders every twinge, ache and slight abnormality suspicious. A headache is never just a headache; a pimple is never an innocent zit, but the harbinger of a new disastrous malaise. In the last few months, I’ve submitted my body and its organs to a slew of tests, which have served to eliminate any specific cause for anxiety. I am now reassured that my heart is in good condition (despite a mitral valve prolapse which I’ve been aware of for over 20 years), and that my carotid arteries are clear. Sometimes, a worrisome symptom - one that has me scouring the internet and obsessing about - just disappears over time, such as the discomfort I felt on the right side of the effected breast whenever I drew a deep breath or moved in a certain way. I can now dismiss the pain in the back of my neck once an X-ray showed no signs of cancer in my upper spine. The one test that would soothe my deep-seated fears doesn’t exist; despite a preponderance of advanced technology, there is still no way to know for sure if any of the little green bastards broke away from the primary tumor and is even now, wending its way to my bones.

Still, ever vigilant as all good hypochondriacs are, I became aware of a sense of swimminess in my head, which, as others seemed to be experiencing pretty much the same thing, I put down to a virus. It persisted on and off however, and was joined by a vague feeling of dizziness. This nebulous sense of instability was particularly pronounced in the office when I finished reading my email and playing the M-W Word Game of the Day and conscience would force me to begin working. Occasionally, when eating, I had the impression I would fall if I were to try to leave the table - though I never fell. Naturally, it didn’t take long before I was convinced that a tumor had taken root in my brain.

Imagine my joy to discover that the cause of all this lightheadedness was a lack of symmetry in my hearing. Prior to this revelation, I had undergone a horrendous ear-cleaning operation. The ENT doctor poured some liquid into my ears and when the liquid began to foam, vacuumed deeply entrenched wax from them. I was reminded what real dizziness feels like. What was truly remarkable was how seriously the doctor took my complaint and proceeded to send me for a hearing test, which revealed the lack of auditory symmetry, and an electronystagmogram (ENG), a test that measures eye movements, and checks the level at which the eyes, inner ears, and brain maintain balance and position. The ENG is scheduled for next week, but the truth is that ever since the revelation of my auditory asymmetry, I’ve been feeling just fine.

The reason for the imbalance is still to be ascertained. According to the technician, it could be a lump of wax, some fluid or something scientific-sounding that I didn’t catch. I confided my fear of a cancerous lump in my inner ear to my ENT doctor and again, remarkably, he assured me that he understood where I was coming from, but that ear cancer is so very rare, he’d never even seen a case. Of course, he is so very young.