I can remember when being nervous or worried was much more fun. When I was a kid some butterflies in the stomach may have made for a sleepless night and maybe an extra trip or two to the bathroom, but that was about it.

Those nights before the first days of school or those minutes waiting on deck with two outs in the bottom of the seventh with the team down by one were certainly cause for anxiety, but the stress wasn’t the problem. It was walking into fourth grade with my zipper down or swinging wildly at a high fastball to end the game.

Now that I’m older, stress comes with a whole new list of symptoms that make me wish my only problem was a classroom full of kids laughing at me or dugout full of teammates giving me the evil–eye for chasing a bad pitch. Sure, that kind of stuff was traumatic at the time, and I may have wanted to die, but I didn’t actually feel like I was dying.

These days the butterflies are still flitting around, but these aren’t the beautiful creatures floating harmlessly from flower to flower in some picturesque meadow. These butterflies are pure evil, and no amount of Tums can stop them. They cause headaches, cramps, and heartburn and a multitude of other panic–inducing joys. I used to stay up all night staring at the ceiling when I was nervous. Now, the occasional 3 a.m. shot of stomach acid up the esophagus makes me long for the days when a little dose of insomnia was the only problem. But, of course, insomnia is the least of my worries now. Stress has got me … well…stressed out.

I worry about one thing, then all of a sudden my heart starts beating out of my chest, feels like it skips a beat sometimes, and then aches just for good measure. This is another indication of God’s sense of humor. I guess He figures if I’m busy worrying about a massive coronary, then all the other little problems pale in comparison. While chest pains do have a way of refocusing one’s priorities, I’d prefer not to spend a couple thousand bucks on a multitude of tests to have a doctor tell me, “Dude, you’re just a little stressed out. It’s all in your head.”

That’s just wonderful, Doc. I’m not dying, but I am completely crazy. I guess that’s just one more thing to worry about.

Many of the bad things in life are somewhat avoidable. At least, that’s what they say, and I can’t deal with the stress if they’re wrong so I’m going with it. I can give up double bacon cheeseburgers, use Coppertone SPF 40, run from cigarettes, and exercise until my arms fall off, but with three kids, a small business, and a mortgage, I have no idea how to avoid stress. It even invades my sleep. Just last night, I had the re–occurring dream where I walk into a college classroom completely unprepared for an exam, and…oh yeah…I forgot to wear pants. What’s that about? Luckily, the acid reflux woke me up before I flashed the coeds and failed the test.