|
Tuesday June 27, 2000 "With your talents and industry, with science, and that stedfast honesty which eternally pursues right, regardless of consequences, you may promise yourself every thing--but health, without which there is no happiness. An attention to health then should take place of every other object. The time necessary to secure this by active exercises, should be devoted to it in preference to every other pursuit.." Thomas Jefferson, Letter to Thoman Mann Randolph, Jr.
plants in the yard
|
|
clean bill of health My annual pilgrimage to my one doctor, my gynecologist. The first thing is the nurse's questions. They have started asking about smoking, drinking and substance abuse. "Are you still having periods?" she asks and then says, "Oh, no." And I say...it's been two years and she writes in the box for 'days since last period' ...2yrs. Then the urine in a cup. The nurse (a sub, but I don't recognize the name of the nurse she's replacing) is a perky youngster about thirty, maybe younger. She says I can put the urine sample in the passthrough or bring it out, "Whatever makes me more comfortable." It matters not to me, but once given a choice, one ponders it anyway. Weigh in. I slide the weights. One hundred, fifty, sixty, seventy, eighty, back...176 in clothes and shoes...seems a little light as the talking scale said "You weigh...174 pounds. Have a nice day" when I was completely naked an hour before. Blood pressure...112/70. That's good. Go to the lab for a finger prick and a little round bandaid. Examining room. Gowns. Breast exam and lecture about self-examination. Listen to my heart. Pelvic exam and pap smear. The perky nurse is taking a survey about a poster for the ceiling. The doctor remembers a cat poster they had. I remember it, too, which dates me, he says. I have been going to this doctor for twenty-four years. He's my only doctor. If I have some need for emergency care I find a 'doc in a box' or something. Dressed and back in his office, I get a pitch for hormone replacement. He's pimping Evista this year because it lacks the side effects of what he was pimping last year. I decline. It could help with the loss of bone density. They have a test, too. So you can tell if you have loss of bone density. I decline for now. He sees the results of the mammogram from two weeks ago. So he can't give the 'go get a mammogram...we recommend them every year after fifty' lecture. But he reluctantly acknowledges that I'm amazing healthy. My blood work looks good, my urinalysis is good, the Pap smear will go to a lab. It's satisfying to get your well care over with. Work is not so good. I can see the holes in my proposal and trying to plug them is a slippery thing. SuRu and I try La Morado for lunch. It is greasy Mexican, but good. An evening of TV and the newspaper and visiting with the parents. I work the crossword in the Times. 'Fat Cats,' 'High Rollers' and other stuff that can share the clue 'They're Loaded.' For dinner we all make our own salad from ingredients we drag out and a quick shopping trip that FFP makes to Randall's. We sip a little Chardonnay. Dad and I clean the kitchen. It's amazing how much more things can get messed up with twice the people. |
|
