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What a week...
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I'm assuming that some of you have looked at my schedule and thought, this guy's got it pretty good. Vegas, Puerto Rico, Elliott Lake, he's really jet setting. True! And I assure you I do not take these things for granted - anymore. For the first time in my life, I am on a diet by doctor's orders.
Not just any diet, one of these low carb, no carb diets that was spelled out for me by some nutritionist. This lady has a great scam going on - cash only! The only difference between getting taken by a telemarketer and her is I called her. I can't eat anything. No bread, no pasta, no cookies. Pretty much anything with taste and flavor must be eliminated. I was thinking of becoming a cannibal, until she told me that human flesh is very high in carbs, I just can't catch a break.
That isn't the worst part of my week. I went to the doctor for a regular check up. It started off fine. Breathing - good. Blood pressure - normal. Genetalia - male. He then decided to give me a cardiogram. This is a test that checks the condition of my heart. I gear down to my boxers and lie down on his examination table. He then places these electrodes to my ankles, wrists and all over my chest. I felt like McMurphy in Cukoo's Nest. For some strange reason I didn't sleep much that night out of fear, that someone may enter my bedroom smother me with a pillow and run off through my window. It may explain my intense craving for a stick of 'juicy fruit'. Diagnosis, contrary to what many think; I have a heart and its fine.
To end my day I had a blood test, standard fare. I'm not a fan of needles, but I prepared myself mentally for what should be a small prick in the arm, count to 60 and its done. Well, Dr. Mengele walks into the room, she's lovely.
I've never been to med school, but I have watched enough episodes of MASH, ER and Scrubs to know, you aim for the blue thing in the arm. I maybe mistaken but I do believe its called a vein. Needless to say she missed. I do not know what a piano falling on you feels like, but it must be slightly less painful than Dr. Kevorkian stabbing my arm and missing or as I affectionatly call her the scud missle of blood tests.
Thankfully, the ordeal is over. All is well. I am adjusting to my new life sans flavor, but at least I have my health.
See your medical professional, keep laughing
Joey "I'd give my left nut for a piece of toast" Elias
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Mon - Sep 13
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