Today is a red-letter day in our house. Why? I go for my...gulp...yearly physical.
Ugh. That's all, just ugh.
Come on, tell me you're thrilled to see the doctor for your once-a-year, head-to-foot evaluation. Go on, tell me you are. I dare you. I double-dog dare you.
Uh huh, I didn't think so. No one really likes to go. At least I'm not alone in this.
It's not that I don't love my doctor. I do. She's great, even though she's moving soon and I'll have to break in--ah, recruit another doctor to replace her. Yeah, I like her enough that I don't want her to leave. But whether or not I like her (and really, I wouldn't go to a doctor I didn't like and respect) has no bearing on the dread sitting in the pit of my stomach like a concrete egg.
I hate to be poked, prodded and questioned. Especially when the questions are the ones she asks!
Doc: "Are you exercising regularly?"
Me: "Um, sure. Yes, I am." Running down the stairs to grab a diet soda from the fridge counts, right?
Doc: "Getting enough calcium?"
Me, grinning: "I am. Definitely." All that ice cream pays off! Yay!
Doc: "What about salt? You're watching that, right?"
Me: "Of course." Duh. Doesn't everyone brush at least some of the salt off the chips--most of them, anyway--before they eat them? Of course I'm watching my salt!
Doc: "And your blood pressure? It's kind of high right now but that's because you're here, isn't it? I mean, when you're home it's not off the charts, is it?"
Me: "No, when I'm home it's very low. Almost too low, actually." Why not go for it? She might buy that...then again, maybe not.
Doc, raising one waxed brow: "Uh huh. Do I look like I was born yesterday? We'll just assume the pressure is good. For now. So, the lab report indicates you refused the urinalysis I ordered. Why?" Snapping her chart closed, she stares so intently that if her eyes were lasers she would come with a warning label.
Me: "I didn't have to go." No one has to go all the time, do they? Besides, I don't believe in peeing in a cup. Too icky.
Doc: "That's what you said last time."
Me, searching frantically for an answer: "Well, I...um, I didn't have to go then, either." Ha!
Doc: "Fine. Do you have to go now?"
Me: Finally! A question I can answer with complete honesty! "No. I don't."
Yeah, I'm really looking forward to this yearly torture. And if you buy that I've got a bridge I'd like to sell you. Cheap.
Wednesday, May 14, 2008
The yearly weigh-in
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8 comments:
Physicals sans pap I don't mind. Paps? Ugh.
Guys have it so easy.
Too funny. Did your doctor see this? LOL!!
Pam
Good luck. I hate going to the doctors.
LOL! I'm not a big fan of the doctor's office, either. And I hate stepping on the scale. It has this huge face you could see four states away and the put the darn thing in the hallway. I mean, come on, put the scale in the exam room so at least I can be naked when I get weighed! Every negative ounce helps!
I hate going to the doctor. I especially hate having the physical with GYN stuff. And why do they always ask about weight. You know we know we gained so why ask.
Good luck with your doctor visit.
I hate those annual appointments! Good luck!
Physicals - hate them! Scales - have hidden mine away. Everything seems to have dropped and spread since turning 40 (years ago now) and weighs much more...well a little more. I'm not like a blimp - yet!
I hope your doc doesn't google your name sometime and find your blog!!! Ha,ha,ha...
Aussie Jude
I think it sounds like you've got a great relationship with your doctor. You and she seem to understand and respect each other. I wish I had that with mine! He and I do not see eye to eye on anything.
Maybe I need to go to a woman. Your doctor probably brushes the salt off the chips too!
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