I have a biopsy in a weeks time and have contamination ocd. I have what I consider a valid concern around getting sick right now. I've been having pain in my neck and chest since April. Through a series of delayed tests because of the pandemic, we discovered a large mass growing on my thyroid. Obviously cancer crosses my mind a lot. My biopsy is next week but I have been waiting quite a while for it due to backlogs from the pandemic. My fear is that if I even so much as catch a cold, I wont be let in for my biopsy because those symptoms are likened to covid. And I would have to wait months more for a new biopsy scheduling once again due to the pandemic. My parents came for a visit today and I asked them to please wear masks. This is the first time I have asked them to do that but because I feel the utmost need to stay healthy I requested it. They got really angry with me and told me they had brought coffee they wanted to drink because so they could t wear masks. I compromised and said well, like at a restaurant, dont wear it while you are drinking coffee, but wear it otherwise. When we got in the yard, they sat their with their coffees, not drinking, and not wearing the mask either. Unmasked, my father started to yell at me that my ocd was too much, the mask makes him feel like hes in a cage, and that he just wanted to drink his coffee. I was very very hurt, started crying and demanded they leave. I really cannot handle unmasked shouting since shouting sends droplets further. My mum had already gone before I even asked because she could tell the visit was heading south, but my dad yelled at me unmasked for quite a while until I gave up and went in the house. They then left. I think my ocd about the germs will kick in tonight or tomorrow but the hardest thing right now is the absolute disregard for my biopsy appointment. If things had been the other way, and my dad had been sick for months with an appointment coming up, and we went over there unmasked and yelling they would have been livid. He gets offended that I treat everyone including them as if they might have covid. I dont understand the offense. It's not like a stigma....no onecatches covid by doing something disgusting. It just happens if we are out in public and unlucky enough to be by someone who is contagious. I feel so deeply hurt that his coffee trumped my biopsy that I have been waiting months and months for and if I even get the sniffles, I could face waiting months and months longer for. It truly truly hurts me. I'm not seeking reassurance about.illness, but I didnt think I was being that unreasonable. Just last week we had an unmasked visit. I never ask.them for masks. Just this once since this is such an important appointment for me and in a pandemic, a hospital wont let me in if I have new symptoms of even a cold. Why is a coffee so much more important than that? I'm their only daughter and a mask and coffee really made them fly off the handle. Was I so wrong to ask for that? It really seems reasonable to me given the circumstances.

content warning: MRI results I got prescribed MRIs done on my lumbar and cervical spine over the weekend, and several things came back abnormal in the report. I started to google when I saw a word ending in -oma, got a basic definition of this particular kind of t*mor (probably benign/non-cancerous), realized that googling in this case was for sure a compulsion, caught myself and put my phone away. I told myself, "I have an appointment with my specialist in 2 days. I trust this doctor, so I will delay/not do my own reading until after I talk to her, and only if she recommends further self-education." I stuck to it and I was proud of myself. Cut to the appointmet today. I got lost in the building where her office is and arrived 14 mins late. The receptionist said there's a 15 minute grace period, so I would have to reschedule. No availability for 2 MONTHS, even for telehealth. First of all, I am so ashamed of being late (that's another trigger for me), and so hurt and rejected that they wouldn't talk to me, even very briefly. Now the urge to google is so extreme. There are objectively concerning things in my report, based on what she said ahead of time that we were looking for, and what would affect treatment. I also have a LOT of c*ncer in my family history; 3/4 grandparents, an aunt on each side, and 1.5 bio parents (1 was skin c*ncer, 1 was prec*ncerous polyps removed but considered high future risk to be monitored), so "-oma" and "t*mor" are big red flags in my minds. So while normally I am actually pretty good about living and making peace with my chronic conditions, and health ocd is really only like 5 on my hierarchy, I know that I actually do have to be vigilant about c*ncer in some ways. My balanced solution is sticking to recommended observation scheduling, and then entrusting the research and checking to my trusted providers, so that I am not being negligent nor being compulsive. But now what? I hate waiting. Idk if/when I'll hear from her. Chronic pain in those regions due to curvature and degenerative discs are the reasons I have to get MRIs every couple of years, and now I am so somatically, obsessively aware of that pain and wondering what's going on. This post is a vent, and is my choice to express the anxiety without giving into the desire to google. I'm not seeking reassurance on whether I/my test results are going to be ok. Still, I think just some understanding and/or advice on holding myself accountable for not compulsing would be deeply appreciated. Thanks.

I had blood work done for a test I was having a couple weeks ago. The phlebotomist hit my vein weird, my arm bled a lot, but eventually stopped. My arm is still sore several days later. The following week I had my bronchoscopy. The nurse used the same arm that was already sore to put in the IV for the meds. My arm started hurting, swelling and burning. I told her it hurt really bad but she ignored me; then I was out. It’s been a week and my arm still hurts, and my veins are tight and hard. Couple that with the white stuff all over my face, that nobody from the care team bothered to wipe off- which I didn’t know about until my husband asked me what it was, I got harm from my OCD! At first I chalked it up to the white stuff on my face was bad bedside manners. Now, I keep thinking that my doctors and everyone associated with the clinics are trying to harm me. This morning I had an incident with the fryer oven while toasting my bagel. I asked my husband about it and he says he didn’t notice anything. I was down to the last few bites of my bagel, and suddenly started feeling loopy. I spit it out and threw the rest away. After sitting awhile thinking of the doctors and phlebotomist etc… it dawned on me that it was my OCD telling me people were trying to harm me. I don’t know how to get over the fact that my arm hurts really bad and my doctor completely ignores my health concerns. I’ve been nauseous for the past two weeks or so - there is definitely something wrong! I think when they find out that you have OCD and/or Anxiety, they treat you differently, as if you’re making up the symptoms. I most certainly haven’t felt heard! My husband always says, what’s wrong now? It’s such a horrible feeling to hear him say that. Is this what you call Harm? Or is it associated with Harm? I’m not sure if this is triggering or not. I hope not.

Hi, I feel so creepy with losing connection with one of my closest people in my life, my two daughters who grew up with me during the years I was hiding my ocd. I feel they are seeing me as a narcissistic person instead of taking in consideration that I collapsed in the last part of their teenage years due to so severe ocd that I took my self out of the home to "protect them" ad I was convinced people would be damaged if they came close to me. Also that I never considered me as valuable to them. I felt sorry for them that I were their mother during their entire childhood. In their teenage years I was not available, drowning my self in work avoiding by all costs my compulsive thoughts and the horror I was dealing with. Today they see me as a mother who left them, not taking care of them and only thinking about my self. They never sat down with me after the diagnosis was clear in 2023, and they took.active distance to me in 2018. They sometimes talk to me, like once a year, in Christmas at my parents house, but never take initiative to have contact. I can't deal with it on an emotional level, I feel totally numbed. I love them more than anything in the world and did everything I could since they where born up to the time when my ocd really started to take a toll on me and I withdraw more and more from the familiy. I don't know how to handle because it seems that they think I am a mother who doesn't care or did care, but my ocd is ignored and it feels as if they see it as an excuse for bad behavior. I don't know, it's my guessing. I am not trying to make them change any of their ideas about their childhood and the needs I could not meet. I am so sorry about it. What I can't understand is that they refuse to deal with the fact that I been ill. We are a big resourceful family, but this part of my ocd is hidden back my role as the creative, crazy black sheep, and on top of it all I have somehow succeeded in my profession at the years where I "disappeared ", so it makes it even harder to explain that I spent between 4 and 24 hours on my ocd each day. It's just that I was running my own business which required me and just me as the producer of my product . If I did not function some days or weeks no-one knew as long as I delivered what I was suppose to. In the end I didn't do that either, but for long time I managed against all odds and the he'll of my horrible pure ocd. Anyone who can relate I appreciate all kinds of responses to this. I didn't even speak with my daughters on my birthday or theirs. They don't want to talk to me. For a while I thought things was better, but then it suddenly became worse after a dinner in my parents home when the family was gathered. I don't have any clue about why and then they said through my father and mother that they don't want to talk with me. If I had been held hostage by a gerilja in a jungle for ten years and suddenly was released to come home after ten years, everyone would be happy on my behalf. This is how it feels to have got treatment for my ocd, which wad undiagnosed for 28 years. I have a new life already, just 2 and a half years in to treatment. But I lost my children. It feels so painful that I can't feel it. And I wish they could know the truth about my story.