The Day of the Doctor

Weighing in public - yay!

Had a letter last week from my doctor's office. Well, I say my doctor's office, it's kind of like a roulette at the moment - the doctor who was my doctor is currently off long term sick, so the last twice I've been, I saw some guy who mumbled and really just wanted to shoot all his patients, and some locum guy who didn't understand why I was there, but saw I was diabetic and ordered me to have a blood test I'd had not long before. I had it.

The letter was one of those two-line jobs - 'come and discuss your blood results.'
Always fun, those letters.

Deciding I was done with Wheel of Healthcare, I booked to see a named doctor who I'd never seen before, so this morning, having walked round the lake about five times, I dropped in to get what I assumed would be a ticking off about my cholesterol level - which has been up a whopping 0.1 percent the last twice I've taken this test (and yes, that's how it feels - like an exam it's up to me and my blood to pass).

But no.

Turns out this was a whole different thing. My diabetic control's not as good as it has been, apparently. Well no shit, Sherlock, I've put on nearly 5 stone. But the doc was cool - I told him I'd started Disappearing again, having done it once before.
'What went wrong?' he asked.
'I came home, and now I work from there.'
'Ah,' he said, nodding sagely. 'Sitting on your bum, with access to all the biscuits in the world.'
'Bingo,' I agreed.
He said if I was Disappearing again, there was buggerall else he needed from me at the moment, though he did suggest I weigh right there.
I was emptying pockets like Tom Baker's Fourth Doctor when he said 'Ach, just take off three kilos for your clothes and shoes and stuff.'
Alrighty.
He reeled off a number in kilos.
'What's that in Old?' I asked.
'About 19 stone 1,' he breezed, casually destroying my hopes and dreams.
'And minus the three kilos?'
'About 18 and a half,' he said.
I nearly choked. I should be so lucky as to have clothes that heavy! Mind you, I took some comfort that the 19st 1 was in clothes and shoes.

He also gave me a proper heads-up on what I should and shouldn't be doing.
Walking, any distance - fine.
Biking, regular - fine.
Biking, Insanity Principle?
I saw him blanch at the question. 'Errr, quite a bit less than fine,' he said. 'Don't do that, your heart'll go nuts.'

Check. Strictly sane exercising from now on.

The doctor was a particular delight because, as I say, of late my experience with GPs has not been great. So it was good to find one I could not only have a conversation with, but who appeared to have read my notes in advance of the meeting - he knew about the heart malarkey, and was reassuring about it. All in all, haven't left a doctor's appointment feeling quite so positive in a long while.

Now we'll see what happens with the other two such appointments I have this week - Diabetic review on the one hand, and Cardiology on the other. Fun fun fun.

Went out for a light-ish lunch later - scrambled egg on two rounds of toast - and by 4pm was barely conscious. Went to take a nap at 5, thinking 'Oh so that's what he means by the diabetic control being out of whack.' All of which is fine but it's rather knackered my schedule for the evening - as I write this, it's 8.15, and I have yet to get on the bike, which, the night before weigh-in, I am loath to let slide. Dinner will be happening sooner than that, but it's one of those marks of discipline that I not only want to get on the bike, but absolutely will do, before I next go to bed.

But the lesson of the day seems to be 'Named Doctor Good.' So that's a lesson learned for the future.

Right - to dinner, to bike for strictly sane pedalling off of ass, to probably more snoring before it all starts again with walking and weighing-in tomorrow.