In a couple of weeks, I have to head off to the doctor for my yearly physical. This means buying brand new underwear, and a forced diet of non-fat foods. I’ll probably pick out a nice restaurant to dine at, since he is paying. (Prostate exam, the only way that happens is if he buys me dinner!)Checking my profile, I make sure I don’t have a beer belly, or at least reduce what I have from a keg to a six-pack. Since he has a Draconian need for blood, I have to eat right, and diet.
I will not exercise more than I have to. I do a daily routine of raising myself from a prone position to a standing position, right after I shut off the TV. That should do it.
The Mets have caused my blood pressure to fluctuate wildly, so I have to keep an eye on that.
Being prepared means being ready at a moments notice to wait in his waiting room and inner office a long time. If anyone is interested in free pee, I will be giving away samples that day. Just mention this blog. I usually give it to the nurse, who actually thanks me for it! Then to get even, she weights me, and snickers.
When we are done with the x-rays, he will ask me into his office, where he will write out prescriptions and go off the deep end about some social issue that is bothering him. If it has to do with medical things, I could be there a few hours.
My doctor is about my age, with a beard, and is losing his hair. He is thinner than I am, dresses better and never gets sick! God! How I hate that man.
No comments:
Post a Comment