Show me your tongue...

Thanks to this experience, I have had all kinds of new medical adventures on the road to Wellville. And frankly, if I had it in me, I'd declare a new life goal to go to medical school and specialize in concussion treatment, because let me tell you, everyone's got one (or had one), and it seems like no one knows all that much about 'em.

Apparently, they are different with each person -- they can last a day, or morph into years of post concussion syndrome. You can get hit by a ton of bricks and walk away unscathed or seemingly brush by a feather and be in for a world of hurt.

And the more I talk about it (and I do), it truly does seem like everyone (read: lots of people) has had one at one point so I am by no means special. Many have interesting tales - some involving alcohol, others terrible accidents or extreme sports, and rarer still, others were like me, and were sitting on their ass maniacally typing something of no import on a BlackBerry blissfully unaware of the insanity that was about to rain down and create a whole lot of irritation.

I have been willing to try anything to make this go away -- from sitting in total darkness to eating only fresh fruits and vegetables (that didn't last long) to taking a battery of cognitive tests to going to bed at 8 p.m. to my latest pursuit, acupuncture.

Acupuncture was suggested to me by good friend and former boss, Gayle, who has always been on the forefront of alternative medicine. Since I trust her implicitly, all I needed was her recommendation to be sold. With her help, I've found a wonderful acupuncturist who, so far, has helped me feel better!

I am really fascinated by Chinese medicine and what it can reveal about your body. My tongue apparently says that I am an emotional person with digestive problems. Essentially, although I may lose my temper easily, you can rest assured that I feel really bad about it and will replay the situation over and over in my mind, which will in turn create the aforementioned digestive issues. Ahh, the circle of life.  Apparenty, what I've learned is that your tongue always tells the truth even when you're trying to lie and claim, sure I've been doing all the the right things, getting enough sleep, etc. It's a bit of a turncoat like that. So it's not even worth it to bother to lie. Your tongue shall set you free. Or something like that.

The fact that so much information can come from looking at a person's tongue has now led to an obsession with trying to catch a glimpse of someone's tongue when I'm talking to them or watching tv. I don't know what I'm looking for but it sure is entertaining for someone who isn't getting out much. And for the record, I think the Bachelorette may want to see someone about her digestive issues...

This is not the first time that I've played armchair, totally unqualified medical professional with a specialty in every topic. I've been doing it my whole life. I'd like to think that years of watching General Hospital, ER, ER (the comedy), and Grey's Anatomy surely count toward some medical degree. When you add in nearly 40 years of hypochondria, I am most certainly an expert in something. I can Google any symptom and come up with the worst case scenario in mere seconds.

Perhaps my lowest point in my "medical career" (or highest point, depending how you look at it) came several years ago when I impersonated a nurse while in the feminine hygiene aisle of CVS. Now, as anyone, male or female, who has been there can attest, this is no aisle that we like to spend a lot of time in -- you get in, you get what you need, and you get out, moving on over to the candy aisle, or someplace more pleasant and socially acceptable.

On this day, some poor girl was minding her own business, embarrassingly trying to choose a yeast infection product, and just go about her day, when I caught a glimpse of her as I was heading to the candy aisle (what you didn't think I needed feminine hygiene, did you?) and decided that she could benefit from my helpful advice. Once the words, "Excuse me, do you have a yeast infection?" spilled out of my mouth, and I saw the sheer horror on her face, I realized that instead of helping her, I was instead creating several new conditions that might need subsequent treatment - panic, anxiety, ulcer, rash, perhaps diarrhea.

And so, trying to cover why any stranger would think it's appropriate to strike up this conversation, I announced, "Because that one won't work if you're on antibiotics. I know about these things because I am a nurse. Take this, all of my patients think it's the best." And, shoving something in her hand (Monistat 7 Day Dual Treatment, if you must know), I walked away authoritatively, essentially suggesting, "Take my advice or ignore it and suffer forever. Your choice." I didn't look back. I was afraid to, because part of me thinks she ran in fear or maybe needed to wander over to the adult diapers or the Pepto-Bismol. In fact, she probably still has that yeast infection.

I'd like to say that, if I ran into her again today, I wouldn't do it again, but I probably would. But instead of asking whether she had a yeast infection, this time, I would just say, "Show me your tongue."