This year was no different. I was hoping that I would have to sit and wait for a while so I could knit but this office is so efficient that they called my name the minute my butt hit the chair. I didn't even have a moment to take my knitting out. Since the weigh-in was first, I just closed my eyes while she moved those weights on the balance. I think that's the worse part. I would rather have them give me shots in lieu of that weigh in. (I guess when one is at one's perfect weight, one doesn't stress like this, does one?) Blood pressure was great! My overall health, EKG: great. My sweet doctor, who is buff, asks me about exercise. My eyes glazed over. I hung my head down and decided to blame it on the dog. "I can't walk with him. He stops and sniffs a thousand times! I had no time. I started a new job that took up all of my time. I was sleep deprived! Yada, yada, yada." I felt like a teenager who doesn't accept responsibility for their own actions. I sucked in my breath and said, "You're right! I just didn't make time for me." We went over last year's blood work and he told me it really wasn't bad. The cholesterol was slightly high.
We had a very pleasant dog conversation. He has a Boerboel. I was sent down to the lab to give blood and urine. I was able to knit and think there. The big question was how does it feel to go to the doctor's and not make excuses and to be at my correct weight? It's New Year's Day all over again.
That was last week. Today, I put on my walking outfit, tied my sneakers on and grabbed the dog. He could tell by my walking pace that I meant business. He did his business and then we walked for 30 minutes. It felt great. I thought if I wrote it down, then I would be accountable to myself. I would write it down everytime I walk. Who knows? Maybe next year I'll jump on that old scale and say, "Move those weights to the left, please!"
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