My very first post to this blog almost a year ago was all about how I had been to my girly doc and she was
very rude kind enough to inform me that I am at that age when I need to have a primary care physician to manage my healthcare. *It might help to read it first. Go ahead. I’ll wait.* I work for a doctor and while she is a breast surgeon, she can and does prescribe antibiotics or other meds when the need arises. Why waste your time with doctor appointments and forms and copays when you have your own personal physician right in your back yard ………….uh…er…or in the back office as the case may be.
It took me almost a year to get over the shock of being told that I’m “at that age when…”
because I’m a bit of a drama queen but I finally got around to choosing a PCP to manage my care. Oddly enough, the referral came from a biker friend I met at the gym. My new doctor is his girlfriend. We’ll call her Dr. LuLu. I liked Dr. LuLu instantly the moment I met her. And when she discovered that I was Smart Mouth Broad, BF’s friend from the gym, she was almost as excited to meet me as I was her. We hugged and chatted about how much we had heard about each other. It was a very different experience from any medical appointment to which I’d ever been. Then it was back to the task at hand.
Dr. LuLu began with the results of my bloodwork that had been drawn the previous week. She dropped little phrases about “being at that age when” and I could feel my teeth start to grind. She proceeded to tell me that my sugar is high, my thyroid is low, my cholesterol is OK but my triglycerides are high. I got an A+ in liver functions but my white blood cell count is high which means there is inflammation somewhere in my body. She asked me if I had a portable home blood pressure cuff because my bp is a little high. Uh NO! I’m not that old! Then she told me that I was at high risk for heart disease as my bloodwork shows 25.2 on a blood level that anything over 3 is high risk. I’m pretty sure it’s a typo
or I’m about to drop dead any minute.
My head was spinning. She must have noticed that glassy eyed stare I get when I’m overwhelmed with news I don’t want to hear because she switched from her all-business medicalese tone to a more comforting, nurturing tone
like you use when talking down a wounded wild animal. She said, “I know this is a lot to take in but the good news is that we can work on all of it.” And she was a little too cheerful about it, if you ask me.
I said, “You know, when I walked in here I thought I was basically a very healthy woman.” as I curled into a fetal position on the exam table.
She smiled and said, “Well, you know you’re almost fifty.”
That is SO NOT TRUE! I’m not even forty-nine. What the hell is she talking about! I don’t think Dr. LuLu and I can still be friends. And I had such high hopes too. I thought we could maybe ride the Harleys to dinner sometime. Not now. I can see that she is an excellent physician but no friend tells you that you’re almost fifty when clearly you are NOT!
So the plan goes like this:
- Stick with the South Beach Diet because it is great for keeping your blood sugar stable. (What do you know? I was doing something right! Yay! Me!)
- Start taking fish oil.
- Start taking folic acid.
- Have an ultrasound of my thyroid and as long as it’s negative, start thyroid meds. (and possibly find it easier to lose weight. Yay, again!)
- Take a water pill for the pitting edema I get cyclically. (Like I don’t already spend enough time in the ladies room, “powdering my nose.”
- Monitor my blood pressure twice daily, log it and turn it in for homework at my next visit.
- There could be more that I may have forgotten.
- Drink lots of beer……….or vodka PRN.
- Spend all your days at the beach
- Eat Dark Chocolate
OK, so those last three I threw in just to see if you were paying attention. They pertain to “my plan” not “the plan”.
So it’s taken me almost a year but I finally figured out the end of that sentence. I was in denial. I was clearly blocking it before. But now there’s no escape.
I’m at that age when ………………………….things EFFIN START TO FALL APART! FML