I saw Steve today. He’s my doctor. Today was my annual physical. Steve’s the only friend I get undressed for! Neither he nor I look forward to that.
I have come to the age where a trip to the doctor is accompanied by a ‘punch list.’ I ask about nagging little problems that need attention. Every year the list gets a little longer. I am obviously out of warranty.
My cholesterol is at an all-time low. Thanks Lipitor.
I don’t eat a lot that’s bad for me. I just eat a lot!
My blood work was good. My PSA number has fluctuated over time, but it’s OK.
Recently we’ve been told not to fixate on that potential cancer marker. Fine. One less thing to worry about.
A few years ago Steve looked at something on my skin and said, “It’s not cancerous.” Even when used in a comforting fashion having cancer in a sentence about you is sobering.
He asked about medication I take. I knew some, not others. There are seven unmarked pills on the counter when I get home. I just swallow and move on.
I’ve got to have a colonoscopy sometime soon. This will be my second. I’m in no rush to do it again. It’s not the procedure that bothers me. It’s the prep.
He took my blood pressure and noticed it was high. He told me we’d try again in a few minutes. Does he also retouch X-rays?
As Steve cuffed me to run the test a second time he said, “Relax your arm.” Oops. BP was normal. There’s a reason he’s the doc!
All things considered I’m in good shape for my age. I just wish I wasn’t my age.