Go Ahead. Ask Me Anything.

At my office (and with virtually everyone who knows me), I'm the go-to girl for questions no one else can answer. Medical, scientific, grammatical, computers. You get my drift; they ask me about any subject that puzzles them or confounds them or that they're mildly curious about.

Sometimes it gets on my nerves. Do they think I'm a medical professional? Do they think I know anything about computers? Why, in God's name, do people assume I'm the person to ask? I know why. If I don't know the answer to the question, I don't make stuff up. My dad always did that. If you asked him something and he didn't know the answer, he'd just wing it. Sometimes if I don't know, I find the topic compelling enough to find the answer. The real reason they ask me, though, is that I can't keep my mouth shut.

Case in point. Last week, Crazy Employee wandered into my office in a daze.

"I have a knot on the back of my head and it really hurts."

I actually asked her some questions, like when it had developed, did it hurt only when she touched or all the time, etc. That's right. I actually pursued this, without pausing to consider the consequences, both short and long term.

I decided that it was probably a swollen lymph node. I've spent considerable time lately looking at a map of the lymphathic system while my physical therapist massaged my lymph nodes. It's fascinating stuff and almost worth lymphedema to learn about it.

Crazy was enormously relieved. She thought a tumor had sprung up over night. I assured her that I didn't think that's the usual way they develop (as if I really know). Crazy eventually called her doctor, who agreed with my "diagnosis." Off she went to immediately share with the rest of the office that, thanks to me, she was relieved to learn the problem wasn't cancer and that it was verified by someone who was trained to know.

Big mouth. People ask me things and out come answers. I don't think about it until they've gone on their merry way, when I once again wonder why the hell they're asking me. Admittedly, I have a rather half-assed store of knowledge on a broad range of topics. I have many interests and a surprising memory for the things I read.

The people I know and trust well enough for me to complain to about this blind belief that I'm the bearer of esoteric wisdom tell me to simply stop answering their questions. Excellent advice, but I've never been able to follow it. Open mouth, answer comes out.

The inability to, once again, keep my mouth shut has, once again, furthered my reputation around Crazy Land. It's become part of my unofficial job description.

I have a question myself. Knowing that providing information spawns more trust in my boundless knowledge, knowing that it irritates me to no end, why is it that I can't stop myself from participating?