God Bless Joni Mitchell

I scrolled through Yahoo headlines, striving, always, to quickly detect and ignore ads made to look like news...like how peeved Cover Girl is with Ellen DeGeneres.

But Joni Mitchell hospitalized made me pause, and I checked in on her condition. Thank goodness I did.

She suffers from an ailment known as Morgellons Disease, and one symptom feels like you've got parasites crawling all over you.  The jury is still out on that one, since psychological causes are usually the first ones probed, you can imagine.

Now if you've kept up with my musings you'll know I was raised a Christian Scientist; and while I don't follow it verbatim, I'll wager many of you have broken one or another of the Top Ten at some point.  It's Easter-time...let's be honest.


I am not a hypochondriac, and to prove it I'll let you in on a little secret of how I learned the hard way:  I went along with my 47-year young husband's poo-pooing of chest pains the night before his massive heart attack, chalking it up to a cold.  Not that it would have made a difference, I've been told time and again; poor Tino's heart was enlarged to begin with, but it doesn't assuage the guilt I carry to this day.

Ouch.  Let's see if I post that.  Anyway,  as soon as I read about Morgellons, I thought, "Eureka!  THAT's IT!  I'm NOT crazy...at least I'm not the only one."  It's the same feeling you get as when you're standing in a long line and someone finally stands behind you.

This unnerving parasitic feeling developed within the past year, and I've been too ashamed to speak about it to anyone.  Yeah, me, "OMG...I've lived like a vagabond for so long I've even got lice!  Except I'm not really sure what lice are, except that kids get them on playgrounds."  But the feeling is EVERYWHERE!!! Bedding washed and mattress Baking Soda'd; good vacuuming of dusty corners in case I missed a spider; and lots of loofah scrubbing of flesh.  Didn't matter.

So then I began associating the feelings with food, coming to the horrific conclusion that at this stage in my life, God's making me allergic to chocolate. SAY IT ISN'T SO!!!  Or maybe it's wheat, or cucumbers, or Vienna Sausages???

I won't subject myself to the barrage of tests for allergies, so I'm doing my usual:  ignoring the symptoms, which often works because my mind isn't constantly fixated on the problem. Most things go away on their own if I wait long enough. If it's bad enough I'll see a doctor, or God will strike me dead and then I won't need to worry about that stupid ringing in my ears.  Yeah, yeah, I know, there's stuff for that, too.


When I was a kid and felt I had mosquito bites where they didn't exist (we never used OFF), Mom brushed off my concerns with, "It's just nerves."  True; those 'Jersey mosquitos can carry you to Brooklyn if you're not careful.  I remind myself of her words as I now consider building a five-foot scratch post covered with 60-Grit.

Here's my dilemma:  now that Joni Mitchell has brought this condition to the forefront, again, it'll undoubtedly be discussed and poked fun at by Dr. Oz, Good Morning America and the Tonight Show.  People will be flocking to their physicians with symptoms they just are now imagining, like a group-psychosis.  An earlier post, "Prop Me Up Beside the Jukebox if I Die" explains my theory of ingesting garbage and then experiencing the same.

Morgellons is not fully understood anyway, so while Joni gives up music to combat this disease, I'll wait on the sidelines and let those other guys get poked and prodded until everyone's attention becomes focused on the next HOT disease.  Then, if I still suffer from the creepy-crawlies, I'll go in and get an evaluation. Maybe they'll have a better idea and perhaps a solution.

Happy Easter to all!