Skip to main content

Another one bites the dust!

I am elated to be sitting here, post-physical, done for another year!! 


I love my doc - she's a friend that I enjoy talking with about nearly everything, but is there anything worse than a physical for women???

 It starts with the dreaded scale (that's surely calibrated to add 10 pounds so that you focus on the stress of the number instead of whats to come) and then to the peeing in a cup (and you're to read the directions and do it correctly!).  Once you're dixie cup is put in the compartment you're led to an examination room and told to remove your clothing and dun a paper 'gown' opened in the front. I know these are surely shrinking because they just don't cover the way they used to and this can't have anything to do with the number on the scale!! Once on the examination table, you realize that your backside is uncovered and that once the door is opened it is certainly going to be the first thing the doc and all others in the hall will see. But it's not your first rodeo and you know this isn't the worst thing the doc will see! I won't go into the details, all women know the rest of the story!!

 The annual physical is a little like childbirth - painful while it's happening and such a joy when it's done. Instead of an adorable bundle of joy, though, you leave with referrals for other appointments or prescription refills. And the biggest joy of all is the appointment for next year's physical!

 Hence my elation at sitting here, post-physical. 
Oh, and by the way - I passed!!!!
Phew.
Labels:

Comments

Post a Comment

It's not a popularity contest, but ...

Happy Birthday Michael Bowen!

This is a face I don't see anymore - except in my memories. That of my little brother Michael. Today would have been his 46th  birthday - but this senior picture is how I will always remember him because he was taken from us just a couple years after his senior year. I don't want to dwell on the sad details - because there are many and they can still all these years later bring me to tears. Because today is his birthday, I want to write about the many gifts he bestowed on those that he loved. Bernard Michael Bowen was the youngest of five. The rest of us have names that start with the letter K - but Michael from birth was going to be unique. Named for his paternal grandfather, whom everyone called Barney. No one called Michael, Barney, until high school when many were adopting nicknames. His friends would jokingly call him Barney! And like nearly everything else in his life, he seemed to smile and shrug it off and go with the flow. He played, and loved, football. A...
3 comments
Read more

Time

I have been reading through the blog entries for John's caringbridge site and am marveling that it was only a year ago we were on that awful cancer journey. In a way it seems like so much longer - especially when I look at the Patient Patient and see just how wonderfully handsome and healthy he looks! John still has periodic visits with the docs in A2 and prior to each we are both a little nervous that the docs might find something. He calls after each visit and we breathe a sigh of relief when the docs declare that all is clear! We know patients that went through treatment at the same time haven't received the same news; our concerns are grounded in reality and our sense of relief immense. In the past year, we have heard of far too many people that have received a diagnosis of cancer - prostrate, breast, throat, etc. While the type of cancer may be very different, the family's reaction and the ultimate course of treatment may vary greatly. The family and loved ones g...
Post a Comment
Read more

The world according to Gimp

  I understand that there are those who may believe my use of the term 'gimp' is derogatory or demeaning. I do not use it lightly or to belittle anyone, it's just a lot easier for me to than 'disabled' or 'handicapped' because it uses a little snark or humor to something that could use a little of that. Or in this case, I specifically want to make light of my situation so that it doesn't feel depressing. For you or me. Let me try to explain.  One of my pet peeves is the look of sympathy I get from well-meaning people. Like, "Aw, sweetie, I am so sorry that you are less abled, confined to a wheelchair and less able to live the full, active life that I lead."  I am in a wheelchair most of the time and my life is different because of that but in truth I never wanted to run a marathon of play pickleball or climb Mt. Baldhead (I've done the latter too many times usually bringing up the rear of the group I was with and/or being cheered on by the ...
Post a Comment
Read more