It's annual physical time here. With great trepidation yesterday, I headed off into my day. Mammogram first.
“Can I have a stronger compression this year,” I asked.
Last year I was sent up to the La Jolla campus for follow up compressions and all the rest of the stuff. Not only had I never been there, but I parked too far away from the building and got lost. You can’t exactly drive around the block and try again at that facility.
“I’ve never had anyone ask for more pressure,” she said laughingly, but she did it. Last year I was compressed at 10, this year at 17. One can always hope I don’t have to go back.
Home to lunch and then off to the Pulmonary Surgeon. I got five minutes, and felt he didn’t listen when he gave me an x-ray prescription for pain. I’m not in any pain. The leg just gets tired.
Tomorrow I take a different set of lists to my GP. You know….”I cough all night”…sort of list for the annual physical time of year. The more I wear out, the more I need to be proactive. Complaining or growling does no good at all. Dancing on the head of a neatly typed computer list does. Watch me dance. Then, with any luck, I am done with all but the aches and pains for another year. Dancing along of course.
- Himself: had a very slow day at work. Did the laundry as his get-off-his-duff job of the day.
- Herself: Felt triumphant as I put the last of the photos away and went into action.
- Reading: Finished “Ship Doctor” and am now onto the second volume on President’s wives.
- Movie Night: “Albert Hobbs.” Tho marvelously filmed and acted, I was bored.