sixtiestosixties

What’s the verdict this year?

Numbers are killing me. They are just getting too big. My age,blood pressure, cholesterol, and weight are all creeping up. The only thing that seems to be going down is my height. Great. Just the number I want to see drop. I’ve been looking into inversion tables. A medieval torture rack might work.

I have a physical next month so I need to start getting ready now. I’m trying to escape taking another medication that can possibly cause dizziness, headache, nausea, vomiting, diarrhea, stomach pain, loss of sexual function, heart attack, stroke, hallucinations, and/or death. Apparently, any or all of these potential side effects are good alternatives to a deviant number on a lab report. Just ask your doctor and watch him shrug.

I  figure I can shave a few points off my cholesterol if I don’t eat any red meat for a month. I tried this last year and I think it worked. My cholesterol was actually down from the previous year when my appointment came shortly after feasting for three days on my annual pot roast. I’m not the only believer in this pre-physical crash diet. I know a woman who takes on scheduling annual blood work for both her and her husband but she doesn’t tell him about the appointment until a couple of days ahead of time. Meanwhile, she does everything she can for a month to insure she has better numbers than him. And I thought my husband and I were competitive.

I also need to drop five pounds to avoid the evil eye from the nurse who weighs me in. Oh sure, she never says anything but I know what she’s thinking. She doesn’t care that I broke my foot this year and couldn’t walk for three months, or that they changed the schedule at my gym and I lost one of my Zumba days. She doesn’t care that I had a houseful of young people for an entire month who bought every type of American junk food they can’t get when they are at home in Australia. I was stocked with things like Fritos and Butterfingers, two of my personal favorites, which is exactly why I don’t keep them around!  The nurse just doesn’t care about any of my very legitimate reasons. She’s just thinking to herself ,”here’s another patient with a bunch of lame ass excuses for gaining weight.” She can be such a bitch.

I’m happy to say I think my blood pressure will be OK. I already take the medication that makes you pee a lot but I like that one because then my shoes always fit. I don’t want to have to take any of that other stuff though. Before you know it you are so plagued with side effects you don’t even know if there is really anything wrong with you. I’ve found the best way to keep my blood pressure down is to tune out all the political campaign bullshit. Political carping is a really good way to provoke a stroke.

There’s a lot of other numbers on my medical chart that are so cryptic I don’t know what they stand for. Maybe it’s better that way. I’ve already got a lot of work cut out for me. I’ve started by shopping for a new pair of gym pants and finishing off the last of the Fritos.