A day in the life of an aging babe....

Yesterday I went in for my Pre-Op testing. Got a bit of a physical, checked vitals, blood work and EKG. All good things to do once in awhile.

I love my doctor. He's so cute and nice. And honest.
(damn him :)

He told me that my blood pressure has been getting higher over the last 7 years and I should buy a blood pressure cuff and start taking daily readings. Then if necessary, he would give me meds to help bring it down.

High blood pressure.

ACK.

I bought a monitor yesterday at his request, and I went to start the process this morning and the thing doesn't work. Changed the batteries too.
I guess that means that I don't have high blood pressure today! (Boy, these things work quick! :)
Will have to take it back and get a different one. One that wants to work and squeeze Merlyn once a day.
(you know, probably a good hug a day DOES alleviate stress and bring pressure down.)

But....only OLD people get high blood pressure and cataracts!

Speaking of which, my doctor said, "You are kinda young to get cataracts". I said, "well, I guess the median age is 52 now..." (I'm gonna be...ahem....51 in May).
So he proceeded to look at my cataracts. "Wow! Those are really dark! Pretty dense. You must be having a hard time seeing!"
"Yah, it hasn't been fun" was my response...
.
He said that I am also to start taking a multi vitamin, 1200mg of Calcuim with D and a baby aspirin FOREVER.
I am sporadic (at best) when it comes to taking vitamins. Oh, I take my birth control pill like clockwork. I call it my "anti-swelliing" pill. I'm SO done with diaper bags.
But vitamins? They make me feel nauseous no matter when I take them. But OK, if I must.

Oh, and I'm fat. (but I sort of suspected that by all the huffing and puffing and the way I sometimes cringe when I look in the mirror, and my bodices are getting tight. Not to mention the 50 outfits that I have to try on before work to find something that doesn't look horrid).
Years of feasting and drinking and catch as catch can eating on the road....)
Oh and Harry loves my weight. He LOVES a squeezable babe. He over feeds me and doesn't help motivate me either. I say, "want to go for a walk with me and Monty?" and he'll say, "want to watch a movie and get a pizza and snuggle instead?"
I say, "I'm too fat."
He'll say, "I love you just the way you are. You aren't fat, you are squeezably delicious."

It's really hard to get motivated for a work out after that, I tell you!

I know that I am a Salt Hound so I put away the salt shaker yesterday....
(SNIFF)

And my sugar is a bit high. This one I don't like at all, having seen my father, Earl, take a shot of insulin every day of his life.He was a Type I diabetic. While they say it skips a generation, the possibility of Type II with an aging fat babe is a real possibility. I have to address it.

It will be oatmeal for breakfast and cutting back on the wine. I DID tell the doctor that I was kinda surprised by the results of the high blood pressure as "I quit drinking whiskey last year."
He smirked.
I said, "Maybe it was keeping my stress down?" :)

I was a very good girl with getting my blood work done tho'. I always tell the attendant doing the vampire job that I "don't like needles" and to please "use the baby needle" and it seems to help a lot. It was pretty painless. Yes, I am a woos when it comes to needles. I could NEVER be a heroin addict. The whole needle fear thing is a throw back to my General Practitioner family doctor, Dr. Ronson, who gave you a shot of penicillin EVERY TIME you saw him. No matter what you came in for. I even got a "free gift shot" of penicillin for my wedding present because I had bronchitis the day before I got married the first time! (how romantic!)

 Just thinking of going to see Dr. Ronson would make my palms sweat. It's a carryover from that. And always in the ass too. And not a pleasant pinch but a thrusty jab. Good God.

But surely I digress.....

The EKG turned out good. This proves that Merlyn DOES have a heart. My ticker is in good shape, the doctor says. I'm surprised after all the heartbreak it has seen. Must be scars holding it together in sort of a crazy quilt effect in there.

 But my heart is a trooper, the poor fool.

Today I start my "drops" for the upcoming surgery. I will probably write about my journey through all this. Not only to keep you in the loop, but because I have to tell someone.

You see, I have currently been weeding out a friend or two out of my life. It is not an easy thing, but sometimes you just have to ask yourself, "Why?"
"Is this person a real friend to me?"
"Am I more of the giver in this relationship?"
"Do I trust them to be there for me, like I would be there for them?"
"What is the attraction here anyways?"

I feel like I'm bleeding out sometimes.

Maybe this eye surgery is telling me to start "looking" at a lot of things in my life.

 I really can't see where I'm going.

I only imagine where I've been.

I can't see a person till I'm right up close to them.
I'm really not "dissing you" when you wave at me.

I just really can't fucking see you.

I feel like I need to look closer at everything in my life.

I have sort of had this silly viewpoint that:

 

 The cataracts are only symbols of how cloudy I've been seeing the world and the people around me. It seems I have imbued some of my friends with characteristics they don't have. Like caring and loyalty.
I have imagined that they are loving and true and in reality they are really only out for #1 and it's "all about them".

When in reality.....They should know.....

It's really all about ME :)

Thanks for listening to my rambles.