It's my birthday--tomorrow

I had to go in for a physical. I haven’t had one since I went to work on the ambulance service—around 1993 or…94? Anyway. I don’t do physicals. I go in for checks with my neurologist; for check ups on strained muscles, or eye care, etc.

Today I’m sitting in the exam room. The nurse comes in and she’s all chatty and peppy. Then she hands me the all-famous paper gown. She’s written “this side back” in bold black print.

Gown. Exam. Thorough exam. Shit. I don’t want to do this.

Chatty Cathy smiles, tells me to change and says doc is on her way in.

The door opens and in walks the doc. She sits down and pulls open the file. She hasn’t spoken to me, just sits down and says, “Okay so you need to be on calcium. We’ll get you set up with that. You’re still taking meds x, y and z?”

“Yeah.”

She still scans the file. “When was your last mammogram? No, you’re too young for…” pause, page flips. “Oh. Right. The big one.”

The sound of a coffin lid slamming shut echoes in my head. I see my life fading into history.

“You need to have a mammogram set up soon. When was your last gyno exam?”

“Refer to records. I have no internal plumbing. So I haven’t seen one in…what five years?”

She scans chart. “Right, but you still need to be examined. You know, there are so many things you can’t check from the outside in.”

Great. Get to be felt up. “I don’t really have a female doc. I just figured who needs the plumber when you ain’t got the pipes.”

She smiles, slips into the gloves and snaps them. “You still need to be scoped out.”

Wham bam, no dinner and movie or even popcorn. Just slip, slide, roll and out.

She presses on my abdomen and sides. “Have you ever considered Weight Watchers?”

Interesting tact. Should I be offended? “Um no. Not really”

“Well, your hovering pretty much over xxx# (Right, like I was REALLY going to tell you) for the last year. Any one who needs to loose over xx pounds should consider professional help.”

“I guess I’ll think about it. If I’ve only lost three pounds in the last year how come I can wear jeans and pants and things I haven’t worn in a decade?”

“Muscle weighs more than fat.”

Then I must be as strong as a clydesdale!

“All clear. Looks good. You can sit up now.”

Gee thanks.

She sits and starts leafing through the pages. “Need to go for a check up with the neurologist.”

I know this. I nod and agree.

“You’re due for your tetanus shot.”

Excuse me? Shot? No one said nothing ‘bout no shots. “Really?”

“Every one should have a booster and it’s been a long time since your last one. Can we do that for you today?”

I shrug my shoulders. “What the hell. Why not.”

“Good. You really need to make sure you come for annual exams. You need the mammogram, the pelvic, blood work. Colton was supposed to have a baby wasn’t he?”

“Yep. Alyx came on her due date. Spot on.”

Now she said: “That’s so great. At your age your going to need to keep up on the health front so that you can always be around for that baby.”

I heard: "You’re old.” Not only was it the echoing silence of a tomb, I could see the vultures beginning to circle.
I notice the doc is getting a little thick in the middle. “So, you’re pregnant huh?”

She glances across the room at me. “No, but thanks.”

Heart rate increases, moisture collects on my brow and palms. “Gee I’m sorry, I…”

“Just joking. Baby is due in July.”

Funny—not. “Fantastic.”

“I’ll send the nurse back in with your shot. Go ahead and get dressed. Come in if you need anything, otherwise I’ll see you in one year to do this all over again.”

Yippee. I get to do this again. Why?

I get dressed, ready to bolt out the front door and make my escape. Chipper Skipper comes back with a tiny vial and a long needle. She’s chattering about this and that and I’m just thinking needle. Ouch. Poke. Yuck.

She grabs my arm. “Let me show you this trick I learned.” Then she proceeds to drive her thumb into the muscle of my arm and keep constant pressure.

What the hell?

“I learned this when I worked at (insert hospital name). Doc said it helped make the injections easier. Don’t know why it works but it does.” Suddenly her thumb is gone, there is a quick jab of stinging pain and then she’s wiping the blood. “Let me get a band aid on that.”

Almost in the home stretch.

“Oh doctor wants you to come back ASAP for a fasting blood panel. We’ll make that appointment in just a minute. Follow me.”

We walk to the computer and she punches up the information and she says something about, “oh you have a birthday this week… tomorrow? Happy birthday! How great is that?

You know how when you were a kid you lived for Christmas and birthdays? I had some of that same enthusiasm. I mean not for the chronological number of the event but for the event itself. Then she spoke, “You have a grandbaby and a birthday! This year is going to be super for you!”

The room dims. My back aches, my head throbs, my arms ache and the arthritis in my hand suddenly flares to life. I take my reminder cards and slowly shuffle my way from the office to the front door. Suddenly the air feels colder, the sun not quite as a bright and my entire life flashed in the pan.

I think I need to take a nap now.

DC