Report from Doctor

Yesterday was medical maintenance day. I started the day at the dentist, then went on to the woman doctor. I figured that it wouldn't be the best day of my life (and for that, I'm thankful!), but at least I got it all out of the way in the same day.

The dental appointment went fine. My dentist looks a bit like Hitler, which can be off-putting until you realize that he's just a socially awkward fellow who spends his day sticking his hands in people's mouths. I mean my dentist, not Hitler. Just want to be clear, though Hitler might have been socially awkward as well. Anyway, my dentist seemed pleased that I actually took his advice and flossed regularly between appointments. I was pleased because the hygenist didn't need to drag out the sandblaster to get the tartar off my teeth.

Then, it was off to the woman doctor. This was my first visit with this woman doctor. She doesn't resemble a meglomaniac mass murderer, which is a good thing. She does have a loud voice, which complicates discreet conversations in an office with thin walls and doors.

Before I assumed the position, the nurse did the preliminary tests - urine, blood, weight, height. No surprises, except that I'm getting smaller. I've lost almost an inch. I can't afford to lose an inch. I'm choosing to believe that I just wasn't standing up straight. I can't possibly be shorter than 5 feet tall. It's just not possible.

I also learned that I have a condition that needs a follow-up appointment. It's not a common condition - because I never have common conditions. I've had black tongue before. It's a fungus that's common in the Amazon River valley. I've never been to the Amazon River valley. I contracted the fungus on a flight from Germany to New York. Go figure. I had chicken pox in my throat. I had a rash that looked like Rocky Mountain Spotted Fever while I was living in upstate NY. (It wasn't spotted fever.) Can't do anything mediocre or half-ass. Damn over-achieving!

Anyway, this new condition isn't life-threatening by any means, it's more embarassing. It's so rare that the receptionist didn't know what it was - so I had to explain it to her. For some reason, she decided that this was an invitation to tell me the intimate details of a similar surgery. I think she was trying to make me feel better but I kept wondering if it would be OK if I just reached up and gently closed the glass window separating the two of us. If she wasn't going to maintain some emotional boundaries, I felt that I'd be completely justified in creating a physical boundary.

I looked up the condition on Google when I got home. I got no hits. None. Apparently, the condition is so humiliating, no one wants to write about. I feel so much better.