I had my yearly physical today and it sucked royally. Actually, I should amend that to say two-yearly physical because this is the first time in my adult life that I skipped a year between appointments. I figured hey, I'm still vertical, can do a couple flights of stairs without wheezing and my eyes are bright and my nose is cold (wait, that's not right....), so I can wait until Fall 2005 to go back.

Seems you get your physical Super Sized when you pull shit like that.

Pain, oh the pain. And you can't do anything about it because you're trapped in the stirrups with your nether region about half an inch from a halogen light that will burn and ultimately scar your bits if you move even the slightest. I swear this time he got his arm in there up to the elbow. And the breast exam? Dude, I might have enjoyed the rough stuff if, say, I got dinner or sweet talk or something first but no, just push push knead knead poke poke. Ow.

Then, once he allowed me to get redressed, he came in and took my blood pressure. Again. For the third time. He then let me in on a little secret: I might have hypertension. A dna gift from both my parents. Frankly, I would have preferred the gift of money. So I had to whip on over to the lab where they took SEVEN vials of the red stuff for the most complete blood panel I've ever endured, made me pee in a cup and subjected me to My Very First ECG. Gosh, maybe I should get one of those commemorative Hallmark Christmas tree ornaments to celebrate the new need to ensure my heart's continued ability to keep me upright.

So, to sum up: I need to cut down on the sodium and ramp up my activity. Which means the next time you see me, my ass will look fabulous and I should be able to crack walnuts with my thighs.

Am I making you hot yet?

Posted at 6:25 p.m.