But when you start paying attention to the daily obituaries in the paper and start seeing the ages getting closer and closer and realize that "oh hell! That isn't so far away!". Time for a checkup.
Off to the family doctor. Nice new office but different faces at the front desk. "Name please?" Daniel Furseth. "Date of Birth?" Today, back in 1968. Blank stare in return. Ok, that new math must be a little hard. "Sign here. This releases us from this or that....". I trust you (I guess). "Go down this hall to the left, take your first right and have a seat on the left". Uhm...left right and left. Got it.
Open the door and promptly forget where the hell I was to go. So I wander around for a bit knowing that some nurse will grab me and escort me to where I have to be like an elderly dementia patient walking around a home with no pants on. Sure enough. "Are you here for a check up?" she asks. "No, the microwave cooking class? I think we are poaching eggs today". At least she smiled before walking me to an empty examining room.
Looking at the table/bed thing with the paper sheets, I can only think of the terrible things that bed has seen and procedures done on it. "you may feel a little pressure" can still be heard echoing around the room followed by a stifled weep. "Christ. Why did my mind instantly go to "that" procedure. I know that it is only a matter of time for me. What if the doctor tells me that this is my time?!!?? I should have shaved my ass. No wait, that sends a weird message. He does this all the time and has seen thousands of assholes. Yeah, but not mine!
As the door opened I almost screamed in panic. "You OK?" "Yes, never felt better! Regular as the sunrise!!! Lots of fiber!" "Uh, OK?", he replies. As the doc looks at my chart which is no longer on a clipboard but an Epic computer screen he advises that we only will do blood work and check me out. Thank you thank you, THANK YOU!, I think to myself. I need more mental preparation for being digitally assaulted. Hell, I think I would need a pint of something 90 proof and a tissue to catch my tears.
"Ok, hop on the scale", he says. Off come my boots and any other non-God given accessories short of my clothes. 230.5
Do I round up the .5 or down?? So much for that $1200 college math class. Already purged that data from my gray drive.
"You could loose a few pounds", he tells me without taking his eyes off his Epic screen. "Uh, yeah. Haven't been moving my ass much lately. Kinda cold outside to go for walks". "Uh, huh. You can walk inside you know. Go to the mall". The thought of power walking with thirty or forty seniors flashed across my mind. "I can't afford to do that, Doc. I will go broke in a week buying jeweled cell phone cases and fake sunglasses"! Not even a smile. "How about a diet"?, I ask. "Yep, that will work too", he replies.
"Alright, I'll see you next year", he says as he shakes my hand and tells me the nurse will be in to take my blood. Being a rather non veiny (is that a real word? The little red line under it on my screens says no.) person, I always worry if they can nail a vein without pulling out bone marrow. I start slapping my elbow pit (ok, I KNOW that that is not the right way to describe the part of your arms where they take blood) like a junkie in an alley. She replies that there is no need. With the skill of a surgeon she slides the needle in and pulls out two tubes of my O-pos with no pain whatsoever. "Ok, thanks. Here is a cup, please give us a sample and place in the little door". Shit! I forgot about this. My nerves about the possible anal assault made my bladder tighter than a skater punk's jeans. "I don't think I have anything left", I think to myself.
I walk into the little bathroom and lock the door. Aw hell. I wonder if I drink a hundred of these little cups of water in 5 minutes if it will end up the golden nectar that the woman impatiently demands. I start to think about drinking water out of a plastic cup that is not designed for drinking. "They thrown these things away, right"?, I think to myself. Of course they do! Wait. This is a green building. They recycle everything!
My mind has now told me that I cannot drink from the pee cups. Time to wash my hands and start chugging by using my hands as a cup like a cowboy drinking out of a mountain stream. Yes, that helps my mind relax. I'm a cowboy. Rough and tough. Drinking water from a clear mountain stream....that an elk may have peed in upstream! Jeez..why does my own mind even mess with me at these times of peril?!
After 5 hand fulls of tap water, I crack the seal on the little pee cup. I am now standing under a waterfall in my mind. I have the faucet running at a slow pace. Yep....this will work. Sure enough, the cup is filling up! Good to go! I secure the cap and am privately proud of the fact that not a drop was spilled anywhere but where it was to be.
I wash my hands again and open the little hidden door in the wall. I place the cup in and wonder if I should let it cool down first. I shut the little door and am kind of freaked out how fast the mystery woman on the other side grabs it. As I walk out, all I can think of is how the hell do women do this?
I find my way out and pay my $15 co-pay as I sign some other stuff and leave. Always thinking that everyone is in the waiting room looking at you and wondering, "What terrible health problem does he have?"
Five days later the doc calls and says. You need to lower your cholesterol. Watch your diet.
OK, no problem. Those butter burgers that have made Craig Culver a billionaire will be a thing of the past. Pizza...bye bye. Brats. Sorry Johnsonville, but you may have to get TIF funding from now on and not from me. Steaks....oh hell. Steaks!! Oh, this is gonna really suck......
But, two weeks later; 14 days of no drive-through windows. Only turkey burger, egg whites, no potatoes of any kind, water vs. Diet Pepsi, margarine vs. butter, and more fruit and salads.....9.5 pounds gone.
I think I will round the .5 to an even 10, just because I erased that math class from my gray drive.
Till next time..........
