It wasn’t until I was lying on a doctor’s exam table that I realized just how much I was suffering from FOMO — fear of missing out.
As the surgeon worked on my arm, I turned and looked up at the ceiling. My limb was so heavily anesthetized a shark could have been gnawing on it and I wouldn’t have flinched. But there was another reason I wasn’t paying attention: the buzzing in my pants. Because this was a simple elective surgery, I didn’t need to change out of my clothes — and I got to keep my smartphone — and it was buzzing and buzzing.
The doctor swapped out surgical tools and made a noise that normally would have made me look, but I was focused on the now unnatural silence of my device. I couldn’t stop myself from asking, “Hey, can I check my email?”
The doctor didn’t even think about his answer. “No,” he said and began doing up my stitches. Looking back, I realize it was an idiotic request. But can you blame me?