No coffee this morning, no meds, I’m just like this doll that came in to the store yesterday. It’s the yearly physical time this morning. And did I complain that I was hungry? No complaints about G tho. He's driving, and I am very grateful.
By noon, I should be heading home with a stack of referrals under my arm. Leg, hip, hand, eyes, breasts….you know the drill. I’m probably a wuss about all of this because I worry. All worry does is get me hungrier and make me feel stupider.
More later….after coffee, pills, and a slice of bread and butter.
Even tho I was miserable and nervous, I survived. I have so many funguses, I stopped counting. Those warts aren’t warts, they are squamus cell things. Lots of them. My skin, weight, and BP is worse, but I am in pretty darned good shape overall. I was even better after coffee, meds and breakfast/lunch.
Now I move on to appointments with the mammogram, the pulmonary surgeon, orthopedic guy, and later the ophthalmologist. I feel momentarily heroic as I manage to remember the doctor’s long titles.
August 22: I survived all the pokes and prods by staying in the now. I know it sounds trite, but perhaps I am a trite kind of person. The doc took action on one of my fungi, and I felt measuredly lighter this morning. Pool, breakfast and off to work.