Last Wednesday was my first ‘actual’ physical-therapy session. I have to admit that in spite of my chubbiness I felt pretty athletic just being there with my therapist Stephen. He put fresh pink tape on my sad kneecaps, and suddenly I felt like some buff chick that was getting fixed up after an injury from playing too many sports……..but then I saw my reflection in one of the mirrors, and realized that I actually looked like a 52 year old woman whose knees are wearing out due to the large body mass they are trying to support……I looked like a lollipop…with cool pink tape. I met Tyler, who was on the cycling machine next to me, he was pissed off because he had already been at track practice, now he was at physical-therapy and he still had French Horn class to get through. I felt pretty good about myself then, because all I had to do was go to Target. Isn’t it strange how you can go for a long while without any doctor’s appointments on your calendar, and then suddenly wham! Your appointment book looks like a hooker’s diary! That is how it has been for me lately. Today I have a fasting blood test. That means all I have done since my eyes opened at 5:30 a.m. this morning, is obsess about food. I almost had to wear a bib to catch my drool when I made my husband’s toast for breakfast – why is it so impossible to not focus on food when you are fasting? Last night I crammed everything I could eat down my gullet in ‘preparation’ for the deprivation I would endure this morning. The doc’s office opens at 8 a.m. I plan to be there five minutes early, with my veins bulging and ready to go. I will have a cup of tea and Cadbury’s chocolate mini-eggs waiting in the car for post-blood work gratification, and I hope there aren’t any security cams on me when I leave…..it won’t be pretty… Speaking of pain, my husband was being fairly nice this past weekend. Oh I always enjoy the early weekend mornings when we are getting ready to get up and start our day. We always lay there peacefully, talking about our weekend plans and chores, sometimes we even have a laugh at silly stories we recount to one another. This weekend was no different, except that my husband casually reached over and touched my face, he looked into my eyes, and I just knew he was going to say something sweet, but instead he said…”Did you know that you are starting to get those downward wrinkles by your mouth?” It took about an hour of ‘conversation’, a burst blood vessel in my palm, a reminder of what you NEVER say to a woman, especially a MENOPAUSAL WOMAN for him to recognize that he should think before speaking. I guess some people are just born stupid……… Meanwhile, back on the medical side…..did I mention that I have a cardiology appointment next, (no wonder) and then a few days later an appointment with my endocrinologist (blood detective) – and then my blood tests will come back, and that will spur a brand new set of……Doctor’s appointments! Seriously it is rather ridiculous isn’t it? The reality is that I should throw away all the pills, cancel my appointments and do the following instead: Quit my job Eat more chocolate Drink more vodka & wine (not in the same glass) Find a cabana boy Watch back to back episodes of Downton Abbey Eat more Cheetos Get a daily massage Weekly Pedicure/Manicure Live on the Beach Marry into money But in the meantime, I guess I’ll keep taking the pills…….. Jude the pill pusher
