…. and the medical procedures that accompany said aging.
Thursday, I’m slated for a liver ultrasound since my numbers have been the tiniest bit elevated over the last two bloodlettings.
And for this, I have to go on a fat-free menu for 24 hours. JOY! That means no cream in my coffee, no butter on my bagel. On the plus side, I can still snarf pretzels and it’s only for 24 hours.
Then next week, I get to do the dreaded (and much-put-off) colonoscopy! JOY! I know they’re not a BFD and it’s mostly the colon prep that’s oogy but still. And yes, it’s much better to be safe than sorry, I know. (Shudders)
These last couple years have shown me that, despite my spectacular general health, I’m not invincible. I take my good health for granted – I rarely get colds and when I do, they don’t last too long or are too bad, and I’ve never been in the hospital outside of my gastric bypass in 1997.
That doesn’t mean, however, that it’s going to always be that way. Sweet body likes to remind me now and again that it’s here, it’s my vehicle for this journey and I best pay attention to it or it will MAKE me pay attention.
I talk a lot about the chubs here and I’ve got to do something, you guys. My ass is almost (ALMOST!) literally growing into the couch, I haven’t been to the gym since May and there’s no excuse. I don’t have kids, a full-time job or even much to do around here.
Speaking of which, I am not having fun. Like, really not. Talking to the dogs all day is tedious, I can only avoid cleaning so much (and when I do it, you know I’m so bored, I can’t even find any other way to amuse myself). I’ve got to get my (growing into the couch) ass out there and make friends and/or find something to do.
Otherwise, you’ll be seeing me on Hoarders: Lightworker edition.
“She talks to angels but no one else. And no one has seen her in years. That’s next time on Hoarders.”
So yeah, this chile better pull her shit together soon.
(Don’t I say that in just about every friggin’ post?)