Eleanor Goggin: In sickness and in bad health
I'm becoming a complete hypochondriac of late. And with good reason. I suppose because I lead a fairly unhealthy lifestyle, I worry that I may be taking things a step too far. Everything to excess has always been my motto. Embrace the fatty foods. Sure I'm taking the old cholesterol tablets. I only recently discovered you are meant to take them in the evening time and not the morning like I do. But I am taking them. Religiously.
There are heart problems in my family and I'm under no illusion that I'm going to escape. So when I woke up twice recently with vile pains in my chest, I nearly lost the plot. I used to be stoical about pain. Not any more. Loud groaning and vile language.
I thought about screaming for my daughter to call an ambulance but refrained. When the pains were in my chest it was a heart attack and when they started to move to my back as well it was an ulcer. Nothing like self-diagnosis I say. And then they subsided and because my stress levels were so high, I sat out on the side of the bed and had a fag. Bad. Very bad. At least I didn't go downstairs and get a brandy to calm me down.