How Bad Can it Be?

I would not naturally describe myself as an extreme optimist. That's not to say I'm a pessimist either. I prefer to think of myself as a realist. Things are rarely as good or as bad as folks think. However, I lately have found myself not being as "realistic" as I might want to be.

Last Monday, I underwent a testing procedure known as a lumbar puncture. Just the sound of it is bad - puncture. Despite being warned by the physician who did the procedure and a number of people who have had this done, I figured "How bad can it be?" After a week of head-splitting headaches, culminating in another procedure known as a blood patch - which eliminated most of the pain, but not all - I can answer that question. It can be pretty damn bad. I always knew having needles stuck in my back was a bad idea.

This is not a new facet of my personality however. Seven years ago when I became pregnant with The Girl, I was warned about morning sickness. I read about it, people told me about it, my mother counseled me. "How bad can it be?" I wondered. Hm, there's that phrase again. I threw up 9-10 times a day for the next 4 months, and 1-2 times a day after that. I was hospitalized for dehydration. Slightly less than two years later when I got pregnant with The Boy, I should have been prepared. It couldn't be worse, right? Uh yeah it could - and it was.

I am not sure, however, that this trait is unique to me. I'm beginning to think it afflicts most people. There seems to be something in human nature that prevents us from really recognizing how bad a situation can be. At least, most of us in most situations. Think about it. How many times have you or people around you said, "It can't get any worse, right?" And how many times have you been wrong? I thought so.

I think it's natural protection. If we were truly aware of how bad things could be, we'd be mired in depression, unable to function. But something in us always - or almost always - wants to find the upside in things. Even people who describe themselves as cynics will try and look on the bright side. At least some of the time. Maybe that's why clinical depression truly is a disease. It runs counter to human nature. We weren't built to be depressed.

Of course this doesn't mean we weren't built to be sad. Sadness is part of the human condition. If you aren't ever sad, how can you appreciate being happy? And without looking forward to something better, how do you get through the rough patches?

I suppose that acceptance of this human condition does make me a realist. And that's a good thing. It's not healthy to wallow in negativity, but neither is it good to ignore it completely. Just do me a favor, okay? The next time I say "How bad can it be," just say "Remember that lumbar puncture?" I'll remember, I promise.