Ooh, Eee, Oo-ah-ahhh, Ting, Tang, Wallawallabingbang
So I sucked it up and attended my biennial physical exam yesterday. That’s what it means by “physical”, I guess. You actually have to go there. So much of what I do is cyber- and virtual these days, and this event actually started in cyberspace - I made the appointment and received confirmation on my HMO’s website, and filled out an online questionnaire that used to be administered haphazardly by a harried nurse in the seconds before the doctor arrived in the exam room.
But for all of their sophistication and mouse-side manner, the WebMDs of the world are not yet able to reach out and fondle your nuts to see if anything untoward is going on down there, so I ultimately had to hie me thither and unpersuasively envelop my naked self in the standard-issue peek-a-boo muumuu.
Though I suffered the usual indignities stoically, the part that I dread most is when they want to draw blood, this time for a cholesterol test. It’s not the pain I dread, it’s some murky psychological weirdness I have about veins, arteries and blood. I hyperventilate a little, and get woozy sometimes just anticipating. I’ve gotten so I simply tell the tech that I’ve got a phobia. This time the woman said, “OK, let me tell you about my animals,” and I jumped in gratefully, asking probing questions about their personalities and relationships with each other, and you’d have thought I was on a first date, I was so animated.
Of course, it was over in seconds - I give good vein - and my spirit soared. They bandage the puncture and say to keep it on for 15 minutes, but I’ve been known to wear one all day and through my evening shower, only daring near the end to remove it because it’s gotten soggy, fully expecting the wound to have developed into some hideous spurting hematoma.
Though it’s been certified that the Fountain of Youth has once again eluded me, I’m told the chances are reasonable that I’ll be slumping up there again in two years. I’ll try to have the bandage off by then.
I had my physical the other day too, but I didn’t do the blood draw yet. I decided to put that off. I actually told the receptionist that I was “playing doctor,” considered my options and concluded that I didn’t need the blood draw at this time. No phobias here, just didn’t think it was necessary. Yes, the indignities are many on that examining table. Oy.
i fainted, or came close, when any sort of needle was in me. most of my life. i would warn the needle wielder and be allowed to recline first. two or so years ago i somehow just stepped right over that hurdle. no more green face. no more ammonia caps. might come back any time tho.
how’s your cholesterol level?
Robin - I think that if there’s any cholesterol in your blood, you got it by breathing as you walked past McDonald’s.
Roger - I imagine it’s because my visits to doctors are so infrequent. The test I got wasn’t the starve-for-a-day one. It was up a little from historical, but HDL was also high. If they’re concerned, they’ll call me in for more. They’ll get my voice mail.
This made me laugh so hard I creaked.
Thanks!
Very glad you are in good shape and will be around to entertain us for a while longer.
Teresa - Instead of a physical, you might schedule a visit to Jiffy Lube
Chris - Hi, long time! Thanks for the good wishes, and for dropping in. We still owe you a dinner. You have to come to Seattle to collect, though.
What a great technician to respond the way she did!
Commenter Teresa wins my “chuckle of the day” award with “…laughed so hard I creaked”.
And I too am glad the prognosis is good for another couple of years of nightly caffeine confidences
This cheered me up no end, Phil. I’m due for my annual blood test on Monday - two hours in a Soviet-style waiting room with the halt and the lame - and I know that my chlorestorol will be through the roof and that my prostate test will show up positive. No reason for such certainty, of course, other than the vast spectrum of possibility. So that’s my phobia - not the needle but galloping paranoia.
Ha, I know about galloping paranoia. We’ve had two not so nice cancer diagnoses among friends recently which sort of started me down the path of why them? why not me? Every little “creak” as Teresa put it has been magnified in my brain into a tumour of some sort. But, I got stuck into regular yoga again and funnily enough most of those creaks have gone! I’m glad that it looks like I will be around to enjoy Caffeine’s ponderings for another couple of years at least. After all, there’s no point your being here Phil if I’m not!!!
Glad to hear you made it through the ordeal. I can’t understand why they don’t develop a device that they can “wand” over us, measuring all things good and bad beneath our skin veneers. It just sounds so much more civilized. My cardiologist’s office keeps calling, trying to convince me to make an appointment, too. It’s not their needle I can’t abide, it’s their thalium stress test that causes me to panic and choke.
PS: How many of us (readers of your blog) have been unable to get the remaining lyrics of that song (title of this post) out of our heads for the past 24 hours?
(Raising hand in Cupertino and feeling older by the minute)
Thanks a LOT, Phil!
I seem to have struck a vein with this post!
Carroll - earworms are us! Send $100 to my PayPal account or I’ll have Witch Doctor start up unbidden whenever you click over here.
Dick - I feel faint thinking about you getting stuck! Best of luck.
Sue - That (your friends’ news) would be a bummer. Great call with the yoga.
Springer - your nom de blog even makes me queasy.
Hah! Anything but “Walk Like an Egyptian”! At some seemingly-eternal point in years past, the tape deck in my car became inoperable due to a mix tape our son had created in Jr Highschool getting stuck in some manner such that every time I turned on even the radio (yes, really!) the tape player would run a constant loop of the chorus to that “song” Aieeeee.
Oh, and now I’ve done it — for sure that memory is gonna haunt me for at least the rest of the day. Augh!!!!
Personally, I sing “Like a Virgin” when I want to get any other song out of my head. Try it, it works!
I sympathize with your blood draw phobia, and you had a great tech who distracted you. As someone who used to hate blood draws, I now have to have them every three months (diabetes) and have had for 15 years. I am so over it. You could stick a pen in my vein and I’d laugh in your face!!! (Quien es mac macho?)
Gotta be done, however, as do our check-ups. You never know. My diabetes was discovered during a routine exam. Caught it early, probably saved my ass (and my fingers, and toes, and eyes….).