Receding hairline? - CHECKCarrie likes to use the term “pharmaceutical representative”, but I think “drug dealer” sounds cooler than “I used to promote women’s healthcare products”. Oh, by the way, it’s required that you read that last quote in a “nerd” voice. Now what’s funny about slanging (prescription) drugs is that marketing and management brainwash the heck out of their sales reps. I remember when we launched the product, Femring, and we were flown out to Orlando to learn about the drug and disease state. It was the third day of training when I realized that I had just drunk the kool-aide. We were studying symptoms and they were running down the list:
Anxiety? – Um yeah. The rumor is you’re fired if you don’t pass the exit exam. (CHECK)
Fatigue? – I’ve been studying my ass off for 3 days straight for fear of being fired. (CHECK)
Sore Joints? – Sitting in a classroom for 10 hours straight. (CHECK)
Irritability? – Irritability? Man, eff you. (CHECK)
Mood Swings? – I can’t stay mad at you. Let’s hug. (CHECK)
Difficulty Concentrating? – I like turtles. (CHECK)
Thinning Hair? – [feels top of head] Oh f-ck. (CHECK)
Flatulence? – All you can eat continental breakfast. (CHECK)
I put down my pen.
I turn to my neighbor and in all seriousness say, “Holy crap, Tom….I‘m going through menopause.”
And for a split second I actually did think, “Call the coroner Tom, cause Aunt Flo is dead”. But the thought quickly passed when Tom said “Dude, if you have hot flashes then the least of your problems is your imaginary inkwell drying up”. And it was true. The joke was on me. I don’t even have an ink well.
I’m telling this story because Carrie never had the luxury of diagnosing herself with an impractical disease. (That’s my polite way of saying that she’s self-diagnosing the heck out of our kid).
It’s not uncommon for Carrie to be reading a book and look up at me and say something like, “Dan, come read this. I think Daphne has [fill in the blank with whatever chapter she’s on]”.
And as a parent you always have to do your due diligence. And we do. It’s just there’s a fine line between being crazy in love with your kid, and just being plain ol’ crazy.
Like the other day Carrie asks me to feel the back of Daphne’s head to determine if it’s flat. After running my hand on the back of her head, I’m like, “it does feel a little flat” (mind you I have no clue how round or flat a baby’s noggin should be). But nevertheless, the thought kind of freaked me out. So I did what any responsible parent would do in this situation: I googled it.
Now I started off by googling “baby flat head”. I was directed to a site and learned that the medical term (i.e. the scarier sounding term) for “baby flat head” is “plagiocephaly”. So when I googled that, I was lead to an article explaining how kids with plagiocephaly can have learning problems later on (do not tell Carrie this). This also leads me to articles about Craniosynostosis and Torticollis. I learned that craniosynostosis can be caused by a genetic defect of the FGFR3 gene, and I learned that Tortiocollis can be caused by a tumor in the base of the skull.
Holy effing sh-t.
So down the rabbit hole I go. If you were viewing just my facial expressions as I searched for “every possible bad thing associated with a flat head”, it must have looked like I was watching clips of the movie “Faces of Death” interspersed with video of historic tragedies like the Hindenburg crashing. In other words, I kinda looked like Carrie while she’s reading her parenting books.
The farther down I go, I’m slowly realizing in absolute horror how fragile our little girl is. I’m thinking that I’m going to have to wrap this kid in bubble wrap until she’s at least seven. But crap, it needs to be BPA free bubble wrap!
I now understand why Carrie is a nervous wreck. And I feel a little guilty cause I’ve only really worried about the good things. Like how cute her smile is, what college she’s going to (Stanford), and what I’m going to wear in the green room as she’s being interviewed on the Tonight Show. All the while Carrie’s over here worrying about what diseases Daphne can catch, if she’s reaching her developmental milestones, and if her poop has the right color, texture, and taste. In other word’s Carrie’s the one doing all the heavy lifting and actually “parenting”. I’m more like “cool uncle-ing”.
As I reach the far regions of the internet and my “disease edition” of six degrees of Kevin Bacon is winding down, I see a particular hyperlink and click it. For a second I get startled. Then I smile.
I then turn to Carrie and say, “according to this, our 3 month year old daughter is going through menopause”.
Carrie frantically scans her book as she replies in all seriousness, “Oh no! Really?” She reaches for her phone as she says, “I need to call the advice nurse.”
Mom willing to do everything in her power to protect her daughter? – (CHECK)
