The old Slarti machine is still humming along. The doc says my weight loss, and its steady, reasonable pace, are astounding. She says I should write a book.
Still have low blood pressure (89 or 98 – I can’t remember which one, over 164), and a very low heart rate. The last time, it worried the doc so much, she did an EKG to make sure nothing was wrong. Turns out, I’m just hibernating.
The movie/music reviewers of People magazine and I never agree on anything.
We decided that Ambien and me is a marriage made in heaven.
No male-stuff problems. I’m sure you were waiting on pins and needles to find that out.
I still don’t give blood very well. If I don’t lay down while they’re doing it, I’ll turn white and eventually pass out.
Do you know how easy it is for a large Dr’s office to lose track of a patient? Hello? I gave the urine sample 30 minutes ago. Now I have to go again. Would you like a fresh one?
The gowns still confuse me. Are you supposed to keep your socks on? Sure, your feet may be warm, but won’t it look a little silly? But then again, how is it possible not to look silly wearing one of those gowns?
Anyway, she says I’m good to go for another year, unless I do something stupid that needs her attention. Which, of course, is highly likely.