If This Is What Being An Adult Is, Thanks But No Thanks

Guess what I did today? Had a sonogram. No, mom, I am NOT preggers. It was for my heart. Because apparently now that the big 2-5 is rapidly approaching, my body thinks it's totes fine to fall apart. Awesome. Hooray adulthood. Hooray (hopefully) unnecessary medical tests. Hooray awkwardly crying to your boss as part of a mini-breakdown in which you are convinced you might be dying, but in fact you are not.

It all started on Monday when I took my salad to eat it outside at Bryant Park. Unfortunately my former Russian compadre (a summer associate of a company we share office space with) was not with me. He's been deported back to Russia as part of that spy ring. Joking! He's off traveling/working for the rest of the summer before he returns to B-school. So I was alone, which made it worse.

Anyway, I remember feeling a little dizzy, sitting down at a table, taking a sip of Diet Coke and having the worst chest pain of my life. The next thing I know, I'm on the gravel surrounded by strangers. Awesome. Sporting a scraped knee like I'm five and a bump on the head, I'm lucky I didn't black out while walking or something. I mean, what if I'd fallen on my face. Not that I'm vain or anything.

If you know me, then you'll know I'm the laziest hypochondriac of all time. Like, for instance, any time I have stomach pain, I'm always convinced I might have appendicitis. Mostly because I've known multiple people (including my friend Jersey) who have had close calls. Thank goodness they're all okay. However, even though I worry about this, do I ever do anything about it? Nah. Figure it'll run it's course. (Slash I know it's prob that I just really have to pee.)

So the fact that after having this dizzy/fainting scare, I actually went to a doctor is insanely grown-up and mature of me, I think. Legit tests, specialists. Next week I have to go back and get my ECHO/Holter monitor tests results. It's all very glamorous, obv, just like doctors on TV. Let's go ahead and pretend my doctor was somewhere in between McDreamy and McSteamy (spoiler alert: he wasn't.) Look at me, taking advantage of the health care I pay a ton of money for. Wahoo. Can't wait to deal with insurance!

The point of this post, though, besides maybe invoking some sympathy points, is to brag that I think that maybe I'm capable of being a real life adult. Maybe. Not that I want to be. Because let's be honest, we all are just 14 year olds deep down inside. Fourteen year olds who don't have to deal with this crap and are more concerned with hoping Hottie McCrushalot asks them to homecoming. (Spoiler alert: he didnt.)

P dot S: Spoiler alert: I cannot stop saying/writing/saying to myself in my head "spoiler alert." I'll prob have to see another doctor about this condition. Ugh it never ends.