Growing up, I never quite understood the saying, “step on a crack, break your mother’s back.” My classmates would chant it, leaving me to question their logic. After all, even the least educated among us knows that sidewalk cracks have no real connection to spinal health. Instead, I focused on more plausible scenarios, like “touch a public doorknob and contract MRSA.”
I was officially diagnosed with Obsessive Compulsive Disorder at the age of ten, but that paralyzing anxiety had been my companion long before my first therapy session. I vividly remember reading on the couch when a 20/20 episode about the Ebola virus aired, discussing its spread through monkeys. Suddenly, my mind raced back to my last visit to the local zoo. How close was I to the monkey enclosure? Did any of them sneeze? Were they imported from a region with outbreaks?
Fast forward two decades, and my mind still spins with similar concerns, though the specifics have shifted. My husband often jokes about my extensive research on various diseases, disorders, and contaminants, all without a medical degree to show for it. We even play a little game: “Let’s remove WebMD from the homepage and see how long it takes for her to panic.”
Over the years, I’ve learned to steer clear of certain “triggers.” Some fears are exacerbated by specific situations, so I’ve developed a keen awareness of what can ignite my anxiety. For instance, if salmonella cases spike, I’ll avoid salmon (cut me some slack; I was nine!). If there’s heightened security, I steer clear of airports and train stations. However, nothing prepared me for the ultimate trigger: seeing a positive pregnancy test.
Pregnancy opened the floodgates to new medical anxieties. Suddenly, I was aware of all the potential illnesses that could jeopardize my unborn child. My focus zeroed in on Listeriosis, a foodborne pathogen, and I became an expert on avoiding deli meats, soft cheeses, pate, and raw seafood. Easy enough.
But in my fifth month of an epic pregnancy, news broke of a listeria outbreak traced to Colorado, with no sources identified yet. I followed the updates obsessively, even waking in the middle of the night to check for news. One Tuesday evening, I settled in front of the TV with a massive bowl of pre-cut cantaloupe and some chocolate syrup when the breaking news hit: listeria source confirmed—cantaloupe.
If you encountered me in the days following that announcement, I apologize. I called every grocery store in town, interrogating produce managers and even sending my friend Emily to inquire if they washed their fruits before putting them on shelves. Yet, I remained convinced I needed antibiotics and blood work. After explaining my panic to a nurse at my doctor’s office, she calmly told me I was “fine” and that the outbreak was not affecting Central Illinois.
In a moment of quick thinking, I spun a little white lie, claiming I had been on a cantaloupe tour across the country. She advised me to call back if I experienced any symptoms. Nurses these days…
I’ve tucked Listeriosis away in my vast collection of OCD fixations (alongside Ebola, melanoma, and that peculiar Benjamin Button syndrome). I know it will resurface during my next pregnancy, as all my worries tend to do, but for now, I revel in this fleeting sense of calm. That’s the nature of living with OCD—you ride each wave and wait for a moment of respite, which eventually comes. Today is a good day, and I plan to enjoy a lovely walk with my daughter… after I disinfect her stroller. I’ve heard influenza is making quite the comeback.
If you’re navigating similar challenges, check out this excellent resource for pregnancy and home insemination. For more tips and insights, you can visit our other blog post here for guidance.
Summary:
In this light-hearted recounting, Sarah Thompson shares her journey with Obsessive Compulsive Disorder, highlighting her struggles with irrational fears and a particular incident involving a listeria outbreak during her pregnancy. Through a blend of humor and honesty, she reflects on the challenges of managing OCD while finding small moments of peace.