Tuesday, September 14, 2010


I got up and ran this morning, and for some reason, it was just hard. I keep thinking maybe I need to change my music or get a new route, but then by the time 30 minutes is over, I'm on to something else. This morning, it was getting the recycling out in time to have it picked up, which is something I missed last week. So needless to say, the recycling runneth over. Then it rained like pouring water out of a boot again for hours, which set my mood to perfect to go to the doctor for my yearly exam and blood testing my thyroid level. I have learned that the best time to go to the doctor is first thing in the morning, cuz it's downhill after about 10, and they are running behind until they leave. The thyroid specialist I had in Lexington was the only one in the world that I know of who could stick to his schedule. You had to be in the office and checked in 30 minutes before your time, but chances were he would have you in and out before your time even came up. Great doctor—old as snot but a great doctor.
I have decided I want to go to a waiting room that is more like a cubicle than a huge room. That way, I could get my reading done without smelling the smoke on the young couple with the brand new baby or worrying about the older woman who isn't getting up out of her chair very well. I'm also tired of the Spanish-speaking-only line. Where are we again?
I love messing with the doctor when I'm in a foul mood. It cracks me up. He doesn't know me very well, except he knows I'm pissed off about my weight, and he keeps telling me it's because I'm getting older. I told him if he didn't stop telling me that,  he wasn't going to be getting any older. I thought I was going to have to pick the nurse up off the floor. I understand why we need to have yearly exams, but could it not be made simpler? Every year, sheep have to be dipped, so they came up with a trough to run them through. Can we not do something like that? And this doctor didn't even have pictures on the ceiling. You can tell I've been going to specialist for a while; I'm spoiled. I asked about the lack of something to look at, and you know what the nurse told me? "We don't want you to get too comfortable." Too comfortable? Really?
So then I got dressed and carted off to have blood drawn by a woman I could have broke in half with one hand. Now here's my gripe about the blood-drawing ordeal. I have been giving blood for a long time, and for the past two or three years, I have had these lovely thyroid issues and have had my time with the needle. So make small talk with me, cuz if you hurt me, I'm going to punch you in the mouth. And for goodness sake, when you’re done and you put the cotton ball on the inside of my elbow and tell me to hold it while you get that gauze tape, make the tape a pretty color. Flesh-colored tape just makes me mad. Needless to say, I'm sure Alex is glad he's in Hot Springs for a few days, and I hope I can get out in the yard tomorrow.

1 comment:

Lee Ryan said...

there is nothing good about going to visit the doctor. ever. only something to be avoided.