Daily Hypochondriac

Tribe Proteae

2008-03-21T10:08:00.000-07:00

If that blood in you urine hasn't got you down yet, those colicky waves of mind exploding pain will soon enough. After about 30 days of recurrent, gut-wreching pain, the docs hook your family jewels to a modified car battery and flip the switch. After spasming, screaming and Swingers-esque swearing, that kidney stone crumbled on itself like an anorexic cheerleader. A year later when you showed with the same syptoms and predisposition to liken the nursing staff to lazy hookers, they decided to run more tests. Your MacConkey agar plate dispelled that pesky notion that you could metabolize lactose. And, your urine tested to be so akaline it could be used to bleach those stubborn whites. A couple rounds of anitbiotics should help since those kidney stones are recurring and harbor all those nasty bacteria holed up in your johnson.

Congratulations! You are infected with proteus mirabilis.

Tip of the Day: Proteus Mirabilis broken down means (old sea god + plant species). Given that all forms of sickness are signs from the gods in your primitive religion, you are now required to build a green house at the bottom of the atlantic.

Cupid's Disease!

2008-02-14T08:18:00.000-08:00

Looks like you've been shot in the name of love. Years ago, you noticed some lesions, half a year later, it was an annoying rash and bubbly lymph nodes. Then it all went away. You chalked it up to all that time you spent looting the empty houses around Chernobyl. Twenty years later, you are getting an increasing itch to invade neighboring countries and nominate your horse to rule the roman republic. If your goal is to make it into the history books, you're in good company with the likes of Idi Amin, Hitler, Henry XIII, Al Capone, Ivan the Terrible, Lenin, Howard Hughes and Nietsche suffering from the same affliction. However, if you're not into killing most of your fellow countrymen, beheading your exes, advancing communism, peeing in bottles, or depressing college students, I suggest you get thee to a round of Penicillin.

Congratualtions! You have Syphilis.

Tip of the Day: Save your sugar coated love until the antibiotics take effect.

Influenza, how do I love thee?

2008-02-13T08:16:00.000-08:00

Sure, you knew it was risky going to a clinic that barters services for chickens, but they cured your Dengue, right? Problem is, there are thousands of type of flu. And, that crapheap you call a hospital could only afford the salmon flu vaccine. Only they didn’t tell you that. Confident you had avoided the influenza season, you returned to your post as the crack dealing goat-herder. When your goats start coughing and sniffling and then you pursue the same course of illness, your vaccine doesn’t help too much. Rather the opposite. Your body thinks that because you are infected with Salmon Flu because you mainlined dead salmon flu last week. Your immune system is about as picky as a horny teenager. Seen one flu? Seen ‘em all. So, it treats the Goat Flu like it treated the Salmon Flu. Takes it to the same movie, restaurant, place to park for getting’ busy. Then, it accidentally calls Goat Flu “Salmon Flu” while getting all hot and bothered and Goat Flu pulls back. “You call me that ho’s name? I will END YOU!” All because Body mistook Goat Flu for another ho flu and treated her thusly.

Congratulations! You are suffering from Original Antigenic Sin.

Tip of the day: Use your idiotic tendency to mistake identity to tell the fat lady that runs the corner store that she looks like Carmen Electra. Someone’s getting lucky!

Bonecrusher Disease

2008-02-12T07:45:00.000-08:00

While walking around Ankor Wat last week and getting your zen on, a mosquito perched on your arm for a quick snack. In deference to the bhuddist temple, you waved it away and, with a quiet ‘namaste’, bade it farewell. A few days later, you wake wretching onto the plush carpet of your 4 star hotel. A quick check reveals your temperature is hotter than the Cambodian cuisine and your platelet count is lower than their GNP. The joint pain from your 'break bone fever' doesn’t start up until after you steal a water buffalo from a cross-dressing drug addict ranting about the price of bananas. By the time you reach the clinic (which is really just a mud hut converted from a toddler’s lemonade stand), your skin is covered by a red spotty rash which you have begun playing connect the dots on. Eventually, the nurse pulls you from the beast, gives you a titty-twister causing spontaneous bruising and checks your diminished breath sounds. She stabs you with a large needle to drain your excess fluid while handing you water to chug. After 4 days of bleeding from every orifice and occasionally hallucinating that you are Celine Dion from the pain, you are delighted that you only have 3 more days of this. And don’t worry, your impulsive decision to change your tickets from HOTlanta to Phnom Penh didn’t cause this, this disease is prevalent in the US as well. However, your refusal to don mosquito netting because it wasn’t ‘manly’ puts the blame squarely on your diseased, shrunken shoulders.

Congratulations! You have Dengue Fever.

Tip of the Day: Turn your pain into song. The world is waiting for the next haemorrhagic fever ballad.

Pimps down.

2008-01-24T08:20:00.000-08:00

Despite your frat brothers insistence that you’re just worn out from the Pimps and Hos rager last night, you’ll instinctively feel something is off. The party consisted of you, ankles high, duct-taped to the wall, and handcuffed to Sherri. Being the designated party foul, you gamely did keg stands from this position until you finally blacked out. A fitting end to a fine evening, no? This morning, when the fellow pledges took turns pelting you with ketchup packets, they took your occasional blinking as a sign of a killer hangover. Only when you failed to respond during the induction rites (complete with ceremonial paddling) did they finally pull your body from the wall and push you from a moving vehicle onto the Emergency Room patio.

Congratulations! You’re in a Persistent Vegetative State.

Tip of the Day: Hire an agent. You’re going to Terry-Schiavo it all the way to you 15 minutes of fame!

Rheum to breathe

2008-01-22T09:59:00.000-08:00

You will wake this morning fearing you are a vampire. When you were poking at your newly bumpy wrist, you realized, to your horror, that you have no pulse. A quick check in the mirror dispels notions of vampirism, but reveals a definite need to get your roots dyed. Who’s going to believe you’re a natural blond now? Of course, now you remember that you missed your appointment last week with Claude, a faux-swedish-straight-gay-man that charges $200 to burn you with bleach. Last week, the CDC quarantined you with a sadistic form of streptococcal pharyngeal infection. While you were bedridden, all that molecular mimicry caused cytokine release and tissue destruction. It’s okay, it won’t ruin your plans to stay in this weekend and get bumped up the transplant list for a new heart valve. Side effects to look forward to include temporary arthritis in the larger joints (such as the one connecting your self esteem to your personal appearance), a swollen heart resembling a spaghetti-O, icky fibrous tissues in random body locations, a snakelike ring rash (once again, resembling the aforementioned spaghetti-O), and your facial muscles will dance like an epileptic at a rave.

Congratulations! You have rheumatic fever.

Tip of the day: Get yourself ready for Major League Baseball tryouts, because you’re getting steroids, baby!

Please Pass the Salt, General

2008-01-18T08:01:00.000-08:00

Yesterday's illnesses be damned, you still think eating contests are the way to go. Perhaps you should have listened to your girlfriend when she didn't think it was a good idea for you to inhale pound after pound of hot dogs? Sure, protein packing to look like King Leonidas is always a good idea. And it might get you a sexy illness like cruedzfelt-jacobs (how foreign!). However, pale as boiled chicken, your anemic pallor and gastrointestinal distress suggest allergies to protein. Your eyes may say no!, but your distended abdomen says YES!

Congratulations! You have hypoalbuminemia.

Tip of the day: Use your ballooning figure to score some paid maternity leave. There's nothing like a vacation steeped in deceit.

Greek Myths and Toxicosis

2008-01-17T08:14:00.000-08:00

Andromeda, famed for being tied to a rock on the beach to punish her boastful mother, fights back this week. Her vengeful spirit wreaks havoc in your life after overhearing you crow that the state fair honey eating contest was in the bag. In the spirit greek myth, you gorge yourself, solve a sphinx’s riddle and find out the whole thing was a low rent film for Zeus’s Skinamax, to pay the price for your overactive mandible. Well, that and an impacted bowel. Unfortunately Andromeda got her honey from the Dead Sea with a side of dangerous toxins. Now, your sodium ion channels are all blocked with bacteria causing excessive salivation, perspiration, vomiting and a parasthesiatic mouth. Say it with me now: Sexy. Local armies historically used this toxic sweetness to down the enemies of Xenophon, Pompey and now you. Your weakness exposed, I suggest ditching those plans to overthrow those pesky blahblahkystan countries near the great salt ditch because your Achilles heel is wide open.

Congratulations, you have Andromedotoxin poisoning.

Tip of the day: Take up cross stitch to quell the urge to coup.

A Disease Named by a Hippie

2008-01-16T07:36:00.000-08:00

Today you will excel at Mario: Duck Hunt as your night-blindness finally progressed to tunnel vision. Butter up you upper motor neurons by letting them play a few games. Their current refusal to transport across the cortico spinal tract is cramping your trigger finger and your left toe. Your mild retardation will surface when you refuse to believe the luigi is, in fact, the brainy one.

Congratulations! You have Laurence Moon Biedl Syndrome

Tip of the Day: Hypogonadism gave you more blessed room in your speedo, but unless you get off the couch, ain't no one gonna wanna see you in it.

Tiredness? Malaise? No appetite?...Rabid?

2008-01-15T07:30:00.000-08:00

So, you've been a little bit irritable lately. Whose to blame you? The damn holidays just finished and you didn't even get that pet raccoon you hinted so hard at. Drooling and voice change are just side effects of that backordered phen-fen you've been popping like laxatives in an eating disorder clinic. Luckily, your malaise, nausea, and itchiness will soon give way to delirium, brain swelling and cardiac failure. You're a shoo-in for watercooler gossip this week! Too bad you can't go near it for your crippling hydrophobia.

Congratulations, you have rabies.

Tip of the day: Stay away from old yeller, recent events may color your memory of that bygone classic.

What's the diagnosis, Q?

2008-01-14T07:54:00.000-08:00

For once in your life, you are completely asymptomatic. The sun is shining, that damn bird won't shut up and you find yourself skipping to work (is excessive joy a symptom?). Then, you lick the secretary's phone for a practical joke. Two days later, she has night chills, a fever of 105, enlarged spleen, pneumonitis, endocarditis, diarrhea, nausea, and myalgia. Turns out, you were a vessel for an incubating virus. You got cheated from infection of a disease named straight out of James Bond. Life just isn't fair, is it?

Congratulations! You have Q Fever.

Tip of the day: Lock yourself in a dark closet, bemoaning your fate.

Grave's Disease

2008-01-11T08:10:00.000-08:00

Your goiter may be large or barely noticeable by x-ray, but worry not! Scarves are in this season. Unfortunately, so is Spandex. In a stroke of luck, your hyperthyrodic weight loss got you back into those black leggings. And, the orange-peel-like, thick skin on your legs is going to keep you in them. It may affect the upcoming bikini season, but, at least it will take attention away from your bulging eyes. (Don't worry, it's just inflamed eyefat). If you were diagnosed yesterday, think of it as a First of Muharram present marking the beginning of the Islamic calendar. This sacred month forbids fighting which is good, since your fatigue will prevent engaging in roommate warfare re: the dishes.

Congratulations! You have Grave's Disease.

Tip of the Day: Channel that nervous energy into planning a fondue party, then scrap the idea because your obsessive pacing will unnerve the guests.

So, you haven't peed in three days. Saves time.

2007-11-23T09:04:00.000-08:00

You woke in the middle of the night crying because your calf muscle was threatening to secede from your body. Upon waking, you were alarmed by your sunken eyes and inability to stand. No, you didn't have that much to drink last night. At least, that is what the 6' cigar smoking lemur has been telling you for the last half hour.

Congratulations! You are dehydrated.

Tip of the day: Wait it out for a little while. How else are you going to hallucinate without calling that "friend" from college that grew plants in his closet?