In the doctor’s surgery, what could be more embarrassing? I’ve known him for years, our children were at school together.
Anyway, the good news. He says I don’t drink too much!!(!)
He also says that my blood pressure is normal.
On the other hand, my suspicions are correct and I have arthritis in my right hip. He observed (absolutely politely) that I’ve put some weight on over the years and wondered if it was when my mother died? That was when I cried. He was most upset and apologised and put a kind hand on my arm.
Anyway, he suggests losing a stone in the next year* wouldn’t be a bad idea and to see him again in a few months.
*er, and another one the year after…
Later I’ve thought of another good thing. I wasn’t making a fuss about nothing.
Darling daughter sent me flowers. I cried again, but it was different.
I’m fine, pissed off and I’ll get pissed (in a low calorie sort of way) tonight, but my usual good cheer is reasserting itself. I’m only fifty-fucking-four though, and I don’t see why I’ve got to get this dreary sort of thing so young. Still, I’ll be bragging about seeing my ribs soon. Hope I don’t lose the D cup though.