So I had a doctor’s appointment today. Which of course brings being wrapped in a napkin — i.e., the paper-gown top that doesn’t close in the front and the life-sized napkin to hold over your cooch as they talk to you. And did I need to be undressed for anything more than the EKG? No. Misery.
Anyway, of course they got on me about the occasional smoking. (Hey, I think a pack a month is pretty damned good!) I said, look, Marlboro is what’s keeping the homicide rate in Montgomery County so low. Why judge?
They also got on me about not exercising other than sprinting to the ladies’ room occasionally. I said hey, I have those hand-sized barbells in my office, but I have to keep them hidden lest I whale one at a deserving noggin. Again, see death rate in MoCo: low because I’m not contributing to it!
It wasn’t all fun and games. I had a reason for going in, other than to get a physical and tetanus shot. Unfortunately, we couldn’t just fix what I wanted to get fixed. In fact, I got the name of a specialist and a, “Surgery might be your only option.” Because that’s just what I need to hear before I’ve had any coffee for the day.
Anyway, I’m staring at the phone number right now and trying to grow enough of a set to make the call. As the doc said, I’m too young to be dealing with this crap — might as well get it fixed now. And I said it was hard enough taking the time off work to attend this appointment, and you think I need SURGERY? Don’t you know Ye Olde Employment Establishment is going to put my laptop in my hands on the operating table?
I so don’t have time for this shit. Of course, that’s why it’s progressed this far. *sigh*
Isn’t it enough to just be good at your job — do I have to surmount impossible obstacles with relationships and health, too? Can’t I just skate by, once in awhile?!?!?