The saying “step on a crack, break your mother’s back” always struck me as absurd. While my classmates chanted this ridiculous rhyme, I found myself questioning their logic. Anyone with a modicum of education realizes that sidewalk cracks and human spines are unrelated. Instead, I occupied my mind with more plausible fears, such as, “Touch a public doorknob and contract MRSA—then die.”
I was officially diagnosed with Obsessive Compulsive Disorder at the age of ten, but I remember grappling with debilitating anxiety long before that first consultation with a therapist. There was one occasion, I was lounging on the couch reading when I stumbled upon an episode of 20/20 discussing the Ebola virus outbreak in Africa, specifically its transmission through monkeys. My mind raced like a hamster on a speed-fueled wheel. How close had I been to the monkey enclosure on my last trip to the local zoo? Were the monkeys imported from Sudan? Did any of them sneeze near me?
Fast forward twenty years, and while the specifics of my worries have evolved, the intensity remains unchanged. My husband often finds it amusing (or irritating) that I have no medical degree despite dedicating countless hours to researching diseases and infections. We enjoy a little game called “let’s see how long it takes for her to freak out after removing WebMD from the homepage.”
Over the years, I’ve become adept at avoiding certain triggers related to my OCD. I’ve learned that particular events and situations can amplify my fears, so I’ve carefully navigated what might set off my anxiety. For instance, if salmonella cases rise, I steer clear of salmon (forgive me, I was only nine!). If there’s an elevated security alert, I give airports and train stations a wide berth. However, nothing could prepare me for the most significant OCD trigger of all: a positive pregnancy test.
Pregnancy introduced a slew of new health concerns and potential complications. Suddenly, I had to worry about illnesses that might jeopardize my unborn child, and I zeroed in on Listeriosis, researching it at night like it was my full-time job. My findings convinced me that if I avoided deli meats, soft cheeses, pâté, and raw fish, I could dodge this nasty foodborne pathogen. Easy enough.
During my fifth month of what felt like the longest pregnancy ever, news broke of a listeria outbreak traced back to Colorado, though no specific source had been identified. I was glued to the updates, even waking in the middle of the night for the latest news. One Tuesday evening, while indulging in a massive bowl of pre-cut cantaloupe drizzled with Hershey’s syrup, I turned on CNN. Breaking news: the listeria source was identified!
Cantaloupe.
If you encountered me in the days following that announcement, I sincerely apologize. I called every grocery store in town, grilled produce managers, and even sent my friend Mia to inquire if they washed their fruits before putting them on the shelves. Despite my frantic efforts, I remained convinced I needed blood tests and antibiotics. I called my gynecologist’s office, explained my panic, and begged for a test. A nurse, seemingly oblivious to the urgency, casually told me I was “fine” and that the outbreak wasn’t affecting Central Illinois.
Being resourceful, I fabricated a little white lie, claiming I had been traveling the country sampling cantaloupe—an entire cantaloupe tour, if you will. She advised me to call back if I experienced any symptoms. Nurses these days…
I’ve tucked Listeriosis away in my extensive collection of OCD obsessions, which includes Ebola, melanoma, bird flu, MRSA, and even that peculiar Benjamin Button syndrome. I’m certain it will make a comeback during my next pregnancy, as all my fixations inevitably do, but for now, I am savoring a fleeting moment of peace. That’s the nature of OCD—you endure each wave and wait for a brief respite. It eventually arrives, only to be replaced with the next anxiety. But today? Today is a calm day, so I plan to enjoy a lovely stroll with my daughter… just as soon as I disinfect her stroller. I hear influenza is staging a comeback.
In summary, living with OCD can lead to some outlandish tales as one navigates the complexities of anxiety. For more insights on pregnancy and home insemination, check out this excellent resource on artificial insemination. And if you’re interested in at-home insemination kits, you can find reputable options at Make A Mom.
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