go piss in a hat
March 02, 2017

I mentioned last time that the doctor's office was holding my thyroid Rx hostage to get me to come in for my annual physical (which I completely blew off in 2016, so they kind of had a point). So I took Tuesday off, and enjoyed a pottering, lazy, "not getting out of my nightgown" kind of day, until it was time to get ready for my appointment.

I made a lemon mug cake in my microwave--recipe here, as it was remarkably good and I recommend: http://www.lifeloveliz.com/2014/02/11/lemon-mug-cake-recipe/ and I took the time for a nice, thorough shave, I heated up some cassoulet for lunch, I got out my new TSA-approved toiletries bag and worked on filling and labeling the containers and putting in other necessities, I did a load of laundry, cleaned out the containers cupboard, and spent plenty of time on my ass with my nose in a book. I really needed a day like that.

Then I took a super-scrubby shower, got dressed, and made a quick run to the grocery store before my appontment, because Spouse wanted corned beef sandwiches with chips and a pickle, and I didn't have chips or pickles.

I got in without too much wait; got my weight loss confirmed, my BP taken (124/70), got a slight shock when I WASN'T--for the first time since the seventies--asked the date of my last period. Then stripped to gown and panties, and pretty soon in walks Doc, with a med student in tow, as usual.

Or not quite as usual--this one had a very familiar name on his name tag! Turns out he's the Doc's youngest son. Great kid, actually. Very good manner, good listener, and quick on the uptake. I'm thinking he's going to be a pretty good doctor. He's very much like his dad, actually.

Doc gave me a once-over, told me I wasn't due for a PAP this year, and said if I didn't have any complaints, he was going to leave me with the kid and check on somebody sick. So Doc Jr. goes through my chart, asks about meds, and he was very decent about the Zoloft thing--I explained my reasons and technique for quitting, and he said his dad would be more of the "why aren't you taking your meds?!" school, but what he was learning was that the prevailing wisdom was beginning to change regarding staying on an anti-depressant if it clearly was doing more harm than good. If I felt that it had been a temporary solution to a situation that had long-passed by, it was probably a good idea to get off of it.

He asked about menopause, because he just did a section on that at school, and I told him it rocked, and I was loving it. Which took him by surprise, because he had been hearing horror stories from his (MALE) instructors. What could I say? I figure I got off easy, for once in my life.

He did a couple of nerve/reflex tests, and then his dad came back in. We chatted, he bitched a little about "corporate" (he knows what I do and that I 'get it'), we did a mutual kvetch about pricing, I reminded him to have it coded as wellness and not condition management, we blew the kid's mind by reminiscing about the days when insurance not only didn't cover prevenative at 100%--it didn't cover prevenative at all!

And he kidded me about the fact that when it's him, I have a laundry list of complaints, but for the kid, everything's skippy and I even lost weight. I did ask him about diets, and he offered two options: A) cut all portions in half, and if that doesn't work, cut 'em in half again, and B) count calories and stay under 1200/day. (Since I'm already working option A to my advantage, I think I'll stick with it.)

Then he ordered a shitload of bloodwork & urine tests, hugged me & pecked me on the cheek (seriously--he is SUCH a sweetheart), and they took their leave. I got dressed, got my marching orders, and hit the bricks for home, and was pleased that it wasn't even 5:00 yet.

The downside came Wednesday--I had to fast all day so I could stop after work for my labs. That was fun, the usual prolonged search for a vein, despite the weight loss and me drinking water steadily for two hours in an attempt to plump up my blood vessels. But she was a good sticker, and struck a high producer. Which was a good thing, because she needed three vials.

And the water drinking wasn't entirely "in vein" (I kill me), because I did have to produce a urine sample. Which was weird, because she offered me "a hat". Now, I have been told (more than once) to "go shit in your hat". But that was the first time I'd been told to piss in one. That was my first time using one, so it was interesting. And infinitely preferable to pissing all over my hand, trying to get it the damned bottle.

Once I got done with all that business, I ran over to the store to get some sour cream and a lime so that Spouse and I could have our chicken tacos just the way we like them, then headed home. Should have my results online by Friday, I imagine.

Now, keep in mind that I had been up early, and been fasting since my 5:00 am coffee, and had a hideous day at work, and it was snowing furiously all the way home (Not, fortunately, sticking. Just snowing)...

And Spouse had called me at noon to tell me he'd fallen at work, and hurt his knee, so he had already been to the urgent care (by ambulance), had it x-rayed, filled out the paperwork at the office, and was on his way home. Where he intended to park in my parking space because waah--boo-boo.

So I had to park on the side street, and carry my stuff half a block in the wind and snow. Then I went straight into making dinner, single-handed, because waah--boo-boo. Chicken tacos isn't a terribly complicated meal, but it is a very fiddly one. And again--I was starved and exhausted. But I kept a cheery countenance! Which I think had more of an impact on him than me bitching would have, anyway.

Once I ate, I felt loads better. Cleaned up the kitchen, did a load of towels, did morning prep and relaxed until 9:00, when I climbed into my pre-heated bed with my guided meditation, and promptly went straight to sleep, leaving Joe Treacy droning into my unconscious ears before the relaxing got past my neck.