Tuesday, September 25, 2012

The Phone Call

I lie to my doctor.

I lie about how much I exercise, how much (and what) I drink and eat,and  how much (and what) I smoke.

I also lie about my weight and my height.  I insist that I be weighed with my shoes (and earrings, and bracelets, and rings, and jacket or sweater) off and measured with my high heel shoes on.  I claim to be 130 pounds, but I'm closer to 140 pounds.  I also claim to be 5'6" tall and I'm closer to 5'4 1/2".  

I don't really have to lie.  My doctor is cool.  He understands when I tell him I have not been to an ob/ gyn  in a couple of years because I'm not in the mood.  He understands when I say I haven't yet had the mammogram he ordered for me two years ago.

My doctor runs down a list with me and I tell him everything is fine and perfectly normal.  Yes, I sleep 8 hours a night; yes I have normal bowel and bladder activity; yes, I am socially active and have many interesting hobbies.  (Of course, he must know I'm lying about all that too.)

He's a pretty cool dude for a doctor.  He and I have even talked about going on a trip together.  We are both, uhm, free spirits of sorts.  We'd probably have a lot of fun.

I go to see my doctor once a year for a physical.  I only go more than that if I think I'm dying and need to get my affairs in order.  (I belong to the "less is more" school of medical ideology.)  If it ain't broke, I don't want it fixed in other words.

One thing I cannot lie about is lab work.  After my examination every year, my doctor hands me a slip that orders laboratory tests.  He checks everything from my thyroid to my blood richness to my cholesterol levels and everything in between.  I try to get the lab work done within a week of my visit for the exam.  I'm terrified of needles and it would be easy to put this off, but I never do.

After I get the lab work done, I wait breathlessly and in a state of panic for the results.  My doctor usually calls me within a week to tell me what is going on.  I sort of hold my breathe until his call.  (Underneath it all, I expect that I'm probably dying but just don't know it yet which may be just as well.)

The call comes in like clockwork.  My doctor runs down the list for me telling me that my cholesterol is perfect, my kidney and liver functions are perfect, my thyroid is perfect, my blood is good and rich (thank you red wine) and that I'm in good health.  I breathe a sigh of relief.

I've fooled him for one more year.


  1.  Hey Cheryl!  I'm back in business too!  I'm healthy enough, but I still get spooked every year when I go in.  Truth is, I have about 4 or 5 drinks a month and that's considered "light".

  2.  Fi, I actually live pretty "clean" for the most part.  Some of this is joking.

  3.  Honey, I hope you don't feel either one.  But if you get the urge to counterfeit money, let me know.  I'm in.

  4. Dr. House, from the TV show House, says, "Everybody lies."  I guess we all do to doctors whether their fictional or real.

    I also go to the doctor when I think I'm dying which is about the same time as my annual appointment or three or four months later.

  5.  Lauren, we do all lie, but only for darned good reasons!

    I only go when I think I'm at death's door.  Either that or if I need pills.  Either / or.

  6. Ha, when you're perfect it's ok to lie, right? Your weighing regime sounds a bit like mine, funny!

  7. TheequestrianvagabondOctober 7, 2012 at 9:04 AM

    I'm with you on the doctor thing! Reminds me I'm overdue to go in. I'm sure I'm fine but... I don't let out my breath till I get those results back!

  8. I sort of think because we do go, we are better off than if we didn't.  I mean, being told I'm fine goes a long way toward making me feel less anxiety.