Doctor, Doctor, Gimme the News

I honestly don't know where the time has gone.  It is December for God's Sake!!  As some of you know, I have chosen not to renew my contract at Senioritaville and have hung out my own shingle as Office180 running administrative contracts out of my home office.  Yes, that's my dreadfully boring side.  I love being at home talking to myself all the live-long day.  It suits me just fine.  I do miss my seniors though; they gave me no end of amusement and they were genuinely sad to see me go.  Christmas time was especially fun but there's only so many boxes of chocolates covered cherries I can re-gift, you know what I'm saying? 

I'll be going back for the Christmas dinner, which is always great.  I hope no one breaks a hip this year as we try to be the first table to dash to the microphone to sing, We Three Kings so we're chosen as first to go in the buffet lineup.

So I've got some transition time to get a few things done.  Turns out there's more than a few things I have put off.  I had to make a list of the lists I had to make.

There are things I tend to avoid, mostly invasive things like dentists, optometrists and the basement storage room.  I also had to call my doctor's office to renew a prescription, and the receptionist made a huge deal out of the fact that I hadn't had a physical for over a year and a half. Oops.  Well it's not like you come out of those things going, "Wow, that was fun!  Can't wait to do it again. Let's pencil me in for the next one right now, shall we?" 

The whole approach to checking your complete physical health has not changed a bit in the last 25 years.  Pee in a cup and pass it through the little door of shame, get your arm squeezed off by the blood pressure thing and get your finger poked even though you just had what felt like half your blood volume removed to check for everything from soup to nuts: 

 "Finger, please."
"Oh, but I just did full bloodwork earlier this...OW!!"
"Ok, dear, you'll have to remove all your clothes, but use this paper napkin to keep yourself warm and comfortable during the interminable wait.  The doctor will be here shortly."   

We all know what shortly means.

I wait and wait and grow more anxious as the minutes tick by.  It is clear to me that the reason the doctor is not coming in is that he has a medical team reviewing my chart.  They are trying to find a way to tell me I have Ebola, the only case ever discovered in North America.  Or hantavirus due to the mouse poop I swept up in the shed this summer at the lake (I knew it!).  I immediately begin planning my dramatic farewell vacation but can't concentrate on the details because I'm freezing. How many Airmiles will it take to get me to the equator?

Finally, desperate to take my mind off the impending news, I reach over to grab the only magazine in the place, Canadian Cycling, and there is a knock on the door.  There is also an audible rip as my paper napkin has reached it's maximum stretch. I guess I won't be consulting the Gift Guide for every Cyclist on my list after all.

"So Mrs......"
"Lalonde"
"Yes!  Lalonde.  So today we're doing a ...."
"Physical." (The fact that I am wearing a sheet made of kleenex instead of my long johns should be an indicator.)
"Yes! Physical.  Ok, just lie back on the table here and relax."
"Relax.  Of course, I've been relaxing this whole time.  Very relaxing in here. Not sterile at all... I love what you've done with the throat swabs."   

Turns out that all is well and only thing wrong is that I'm low on Vitamin D.  You know what that means!  A prescription for getting the hell out of Siberia.  Take me to the sun, Baby!