Self-diagnosis

I think I speak for a few of us when I say we have a tendency to fall into the self-diagnosis trap. We read about some ailment, see the symptoms, compare them to our situations and realize we are afflicted. Most of us don't do this everyday (those people are hypochondriacs for crying out loud), but some of us run across a plausible disease, and we sometimes see a link.

I don't usually fully diagnose myself as having the problem at that moment. Instead, I see the warning signs and realize I will likely contract the disease before too long. I go into this long description because I am telling you all right now, before it even happens, I will catch MRSA. What the hell is it, you all gasp. Oh, just a little infection that is resistant to most antibiotics and can take on a flesh-eating form.

Actually, I am pretty safe when it comes to this because I wash my hands, bathe, use soap, don't share towels, etc. I made it almost all the way through the People article (a damn reputable source for medical advice) without fear or worry. I scoffed at the poor, dirty souls who became infected. Then I read the quote from a Dad whose sons both contracted it. Al said, "If your kid has a painful pimple, see a doctor. Don't wait, because MRSA won't."

I put the magazine down and thought to myself, "I've had painful pimples. Hell, I have one right now" - the kind that develop deep under the surface, turn red and swell a little.

Life can just be so damn miserable. Not only am I a 29- (soon-to-be-30) year-old with constant bouts of acne, but I am going to die from it. I write this not as a sad mourning of my life but a warning for those of you out there with pimples that hurt. Good luck and good riddance.