Please don't think I was being heartless. Eric is a confirmed hypochondriac, and has been ever since that fateful day several years ago when a dentist looked inside Eric's mouth and said, "Hmmmmm..." Those little precancerous lesions disappeared when Eric promptly quit the cigarettes cold turkey, but he's been a bit gun-shy ever since. If he suffers an odd pain, it can start him to worrying about any number of strange and rare diseases. Sometimes he's right - the abdominal pains from a year ago turned out to be gallstones, not gas - but mostly he's just paranoid.

Lately, he's taken to turning off all the lights, standing in front of a mirror, and shining a flashlight in his mouth as he pokes around. When he complained of soreness, I told him it was no doubt due to the amount of poking his mouth was receiving, and that if he was really worried, he should CALL THE BLAMED DOCTOR! So he set up his yearly check-up with his primary care provider for today, prepared with a few questions about his mouth.

He just called with the results, and I feel like a grade-A heel. He has an abscess. Quite a serious one, in fact, for it's already formed a fistula (whatever that may be). He'll need an emergency root canal. (Oh, Zannie! I hope you weren't kidding about those procedures being "not bad"!) I feel like the worst wife in the world for assuming that he was exaggerating the pain. Somebody shoot me.

Oh, and his blood pressure was through the roof - 170/100 when the doctor measured it himself. That's not normal for Eric, who normally has surprisingly good blood pressure, considering genetics and his weight. (The weight, by the way, has also changed for the worse. No, this was not one of Eric's better doctor visits.) I think the high blood pressure is easily explainable, considering the massive amounts of stressful overtime he's been pulling lately. Plus, the pain and worry from the abscess has to be having some effect.

My poor lamb. He's all broken.

Oh, and now the library office manager tells me to make sure that he gets the abscess taken care of immediately, because an abscess is what killed her son. Apparently, he let it go for four weeks, and when he went to the dentist, the dentist refused to touch it, just giving him an antibiotic instead. The infection spread and killed him. That is just what I needed to hear, since Eric's been fussing over this for several weeks himself...

My graduation ceremonies are in a little over two weeks. I was looking forward to them quite a lot; Mom and Dad are coming, Eric says he most likely won't have to work, and I'm looking forward to the ceremony itself. I found out recently, however, that my mother-in-law and brother-in-law will also be in attendance. This was not planned; rather, the fact that the visit and graduation are coinciding was not planned. The two had already bought plane tickets when I was informed of the date of their visit. Nothing can be done.

What makes me feel like a rat is that I really don't want them here for this. I've talked about the tension I feel when they're around. Why do they have to be here for this event? Why can't I have this day to feel good, without any anxiety mixed in? I want to enjoy myself; I don't want to play hostess! With Mom and Dad, it's different, though I'm sure Eric might feel otherwise. But it's my day!

Of course, now I feel like a complete child for saying anything. I wasn't going to write about this, because whining doesn't change anything. I haven't even told Eric fully how I feel, because I know it hurts him that I feel so ill at ease around his parents. I just had to get it out, though; I couldn't keep it pent up anymore.

It will be fun to see our sets of parents argue over who gets to buy our meals. I think we may just be able to beat them both while they're not looking.

He's making career decisions based on our choices as a couple. We want children, and for me to be able to stay home with them; therefore, he's working like mad to get ahead so that he can be a sole provider. The ambition he's feeling is tinged with fear - fear for his family should he not be able to care for us. I shouldn't complain if he's not there to kiss me goodnight, because he's breaking his back for me.

God, what a rotten person I am! How selfish can I be? I want him to be happy; I want him to be able to relax and let down his hair - and his blood pressure. I want my cake, and I want to scarf it down with chocolate ice cream, too. How can I stomach what our choices are forcing him to do?

I'm feeling very unworthy right now.