My Unexpected Diagnosis

In Uncategorized on December 23, 2011 at 12:58 pm

Submitted By: Gentry

The first time was during Christmas break. I was watching Gangs of New York with my younger cousin, who’s far from the gringo gang banging type, and my father. My heart raced, head flew, and body tingled. After the movie we went to South Crest Hospital and I spent $500 – or, more likely, my Pa Pa comped me – to determine that I was perfectly healthy, but perhaps a bit stress worn. The next day I ignored my parents’ concerns about my health and drove over 500 miles to spend time with my future wife and her sister’s window pressed pregnant belly.

The second time was during yesterday’s holiday party – you read that right, let the holi war commence –  shortly before consuming a mashup of chicken parm and steak tips. I was talking with two of my senior colleagues about the career paths of past employees when my fingers began to tingle, my bottom lip started going numb, and my head went light. I tried to excuse myself from the conversation by explaining my symptoms to my bosses and indirectly inquiring whether I should go to the hospital. They suggested I ingest a combination of charred fare and fresh air. When eating didn’t chase the symptoms away, I called my PCP who ran me through a battery of physical tests, blood work, and a heart cath – all of which I didn’t realize I’ll have to pay for since we’re on a PPO – and found nothing.

I think the doctor wanted to ascribe my symptoms to stress, but since he half-believed my assertion that work and life are going just fine, he said “you have some kind of short-term sensory issue.”

You heard the doctor right: I have Christmas Sensory Disorder*. Since the doctor said nothing could treat it except for time, I’ve designed a prescription of my own.

During this season, please respect my precarious state. Since there is no cure for Christmas Sensory Disorder I’m going to weigh down my torso with an unwashed hoody, reduce the tactile tingling with a bottle of Bulleit and The Art of Fielding, and await the calendar cure.

I’ll see you after the Seacrest stained New Year – by which time my trunk magnet will be designed.


* This post is not intended to offend anyone with any other disorder, be it real or farcical. My sole intention is to, perhaps unwisely, plumb the jagged edges of my own neuroses.


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