Miss G and I ran 5.5 miles this morning. We should mix things up a bit. But it’s our regular route and we like it so much. This morning it was really cold at like…40* some degrees and we really didn’t want to run, we really wanted to be home in bed all snuggly warm.
We were grown ups though and did what we needed to. Pushing through and recognizing it would be so worth it in the end. And it was.
I went from there to my doctor appt.
Miss Lezly messaged me after my post this morning to tell me she thinks I’m always at the doctor.
Sigh. She’s right.
I’m looking into just moving into the office space next door to her. Think of the savings..time and money on gas. I can just walk next door in my jammies whenever I have an appt.
The truth is I have three different doctors. I only see two on a regular basis and by regular I mean every 3 to six months. But because they all require that evil little word “follow up” when something isn’t quite right (and when is anything right with me) I have to pop in at six weeks.
And there you have it. I freaking live there.
I forget with Celiac that I’m also Hypothyroid.
Yep. Ladies and Gentlemen I am the winner of two fun little diseases.
So when I start to feel exhausted, and I start doing those dumb things like cream cheesing the bagel and then throwing the knife away (yup, that’s a normal move for me) then I look at Sean and say…I think my numbers are off.
Sean readily agrees and shakes his head in perplexity that I can even function as a human being.
And a blood test later…yup…they are definitely off.
You’d think I’d be upset but instead I wanted to dance with joy because it’s an actual reason for my feeling lousy.
So I chatted with the doctor, she adjusted my meds and hopefully it solves most of my problems.
Ha!! caught that, didn’t you.
Yeah, it might solve the absent mindedness and it might solve the tired problem but the rest of my issues, well. I’m sure it’s far too late for that.
Therapy is probably in order.
My awesome doctor has an intern. She’s very nice. Young. Nice.
She’s one of those ~ tilt her head and commiserate politely while nodding and saying, “yeah, ohhh sure. That must be awful”.
Again, she’s very nice. I don’t think she realizes how she comes across.
I kind of want to punch her in the face.
In a totally non violent way of course.
So as we’re discussing my issues (shut up, it does not take all day) they ask if weight loss is one of the problems.
Why they would ask this I don’t know as my weight is like…the EXACT SAME IT WAS SIX MONTHS AGO.
So I say NO. Good LORD that would be GREAT.
They both laugh at me and look at the chart and back at me and say my weight is fine, and I definitely don’t need to lose weight.
So then I prepare my speech. Man I get tired of the speech.
I politely explain that at my age (I am unembarrassed to be 48. No worries people) I am going to be heading into menopause. If you are going to judge me by my BMI (which you are, I can see it in my chart) I am already at the top of the BMI chart. At 5’2″ I need to be about 10 lbs lighter so when menopause hits I’m not already behind because of the inevitable weight gain that always comes with it.
My wonderful doctor says that makes perfect sense. She says I’m probably already ahead of the game because I work out so much and take such good care of myself.
The intern? She says (and you can’t make this up)…
“Sadly, it’s really probably already too late”
Shutthefrontdoor you did NOT just say that to me.
(I know I just used Jimmy but we’re good friends now)
I can’t tell you how mad I was. seriously. I already don’t love her but when those words came out of her mouth I thought..what the hell. I work my ass off and maybe I just need to try different things. Maybe I just need to work a little harder. Maybe I just need more strength training. Maybe I need to eat more, better, less, different.
But don’t tell me I’m screwed. Don’t tell me it’s for nothing.
She is not my favorite.
Don’t worry…I get to fill out the survey.