Visit to Doctor’s Office-Weight Loss Series

After spending some quality time in depressing surroundings that is a doctor’s waiting room, my name was called. I was ushered to an examination room. Calling it a room was fairly generous. It was the size of a vertical coffin. If that alone did not make you claustrophobic, they had all other angles covered.

The interior of coffin was done in shades of suicidal gray and deathly pastel. The overhead lights were those bright fluorescent types that they banned even in former USSR. There were all kinds of artsy posters on the walls. This eye-catching artwork had a practical purpose though. It warned that you could have colon cancer, breast cancer, prostate cancer and few other types of cancers. You ignorant soul might not even know about it. All you have to do is to ask your good doc for screening for these things. He will arrange for all your body orifices to be probed thoroughly so that this cancer will have no place to hide. They also had a very serious looking guy pointing a finger at you and asking, “have you had a colonoscopy”?

You could also have diabetes, high blood pressure, depression, mini stroke, diverticulosis, abnormal cholesterol or heart disease. You might have low testosterone, low estrogen, low bone mass and anemia. On a different note you could also have heart failure, kidney disease, hepatitis or skin cancer.

It also reminded reader that you should inform doctor if you don’t feel safe at home, had unprotected sex or have suicidal thoughts. Especially if you had suicidal thoughts after having unprotected sex. Because let’s face it; HIV is fairly manageable now a days.

The nice Nurse was an old-fashioned, old world nurse who still had the head thing and all. She did not believe in smiling or laughing. She handed me one of those nightmarish hospital gowns that open in back and never have all the straps in place. I made the regular lame joke that generally I am paid for this kind of thing. Either she did not find it funny or she wanted to put me right in my place. She gave me kind of the look that a Mummy (Egyptian type, not your own) gives you when you crack a joke.

I told her that I do not see the need to put this garment on, as I am here for a quick physical only. Apparently there is nothing like a “quick physical” and doctor would prefer me in this “thing”. She left the room and I did change into the “thing”. Just to make this an unforgettable experience, they even had a mirror in the room.

With my last shreds of dignity snatched away from me, I decided to make most of what I had been given. As a token of my protest against this objectification of my body, I decided to keep the socks on. I really cut a fairly depressing figure in this flowery loose robe. A knee-length robe with socks is never going to make you front cover of GQ. I decided to take the socks off. The reflection in mirror was even worse. I put them on again. But then I was worried it would add weight, I took them off again.

Nurse is back. She took my weight and all the usual stuff that they do. She told me I have great veins. I thought it was a compliment till I realized that she was planning to draw some blood. With her demeanor I was not sure if she would use a syringe or simple suck it out of my veins. I told her I am absolutely healthy. But doc would still want to check my cholesterol and thyroid hormone levels. I have already waited close to 45 minutes in waiting room, 25 minutes here, filled out my life story in all kind of forms and this healer is nowhere to be seen.   To be continued…

My Physical Trainer

PTFinally I have a trainer. After my disastrous entry in world of Yoga, I have realized Gym might be better. I must say now I firmly believe that matches are either made in heaven or in gym. I have seen this dude working out with people and he looks like a fairly relaxed guy. So I felt that my motivation levels might match his levels.

I approached him. But this time I did not want to make same mistake as I did with last trainer. I made sure that I should not leave any doubt that I am a very motivated and disciplined type person. I had read somewhere that if you keep on repeating same word again and again, you are more likely to be believed.

PT: You want to work out with me?

Me: I am very motivated.

PT: That’s great! How many times a week do you want to work out?

Me: I am so motivated that I might want to work out all 7 days a week. But since I have to work and you probably have things to do, maybe we can do once a week.

PT: I will suggest at least three times a week.

Me: Absolutely, 3 is better than 1.

PT: What kind of diet do you want to follow?

Me: I am so motivated that I might not eat/drink anything except protein bars and shakes. Is that ok with you.

So far he seems to believe every word that I say. I can always make excuses to cut it down to once a week once he accepts me. He asked me to follow him. We walked to rear end of the gym. He asked me to take my clothes off. I told him that I am flattered but I am not into these kinds of things. He gave me a hurt look (could have been a puzzled look). “How am I going to measure you then”? This is getting awkward real fast.

Me: Oh..I am so sorry. I hope you did not think…..

PT: No! No! It is not my role to judge.

Me: No! Oh my God! No..I thought you were….

PT: Jesus! No..I have many friends who are…oh god…I will never judge anyone..

Me: Me too. I will die or go on a diet before judging…(in a panic and thinking how can I revive the situation) It is nothing new for me. People ask me to take my clothes all the time. (shut up now. you can only make it worse). I am sure you also take your clothes off all the time. Ha-ha (SHUT UP NOW).

PT: No, in fact nobody does. Remember, I am a Physical trainer not an exotic dancer.

Now this whole thing has a very strange feel to it. Did he think I think he is…Did he think? He tells me he respects all his clients regardless. I told him I hardly respect anyone (why did you have to say that). I mean I respect physical trainers regardless (please shut up now).

I think everything is going well. He then drops a bomb. “When did you see your regular doc last time”? Where is this son of a gun going with this one? I told him that I frankly don’t believe in going to doctors. My Grandfather lived till 94 and the only reason he lived so long was that he never went to a doctor. “I will need a clearance from your doctor. It looks like you have been living a very sedentary life.” I told him that I walk up one flight of stairs every morning, all 9 stairs. He does not want to hear anything.

So, now this is a big cluster fu**. I need to see a doctor to be able to work out with second physical trainer after being rejected by first. I am clearly not cut out for Yoga and my life coach is a drug dealer. I am living the freaking dream.   To be continued…