Friday, 11 September 2009

Even better....

Have been a little concerned over this past week about the state of my health. I'm not sure whether it was the stress of the immigration paperwork or family visits and all their attendant problems, or even the abrasion of my relationship with Mrs S over related issues, but I was definitely feeling below par. Because I was waking up in the middle of the night to visit the toilet and having seen all the scary adverts about possible prostate problems, I took myself off to see my Doctor.

Although it's a bit disconcerting to be poked and prodded around by someone twenty years my junior, I related my symptoms and concerns. Last week I was given tablets to take, and packed off to get blood and urine tests. This morning I sat a little nervously in a consulting room, wondering what the news would be. Worrying not about myself, but how to break any putative bad news to my family. The tablets hadn't been agreeing with me, and had made me decidedly fuzzy headed and woozy. I'd stopped taking the bloody things because the side effects were turning out worse than the original damn symptoms. I wasn't looking forward to any more medication and wanted to avoid more pills if possible.

Well, the news is that my blood tests are clear, electrolytes nicely balanced, kidney function fine, blood pressure one twenty over eighty, resting pulse just under sixty, blood enzymes well within limits, so no incipient heart problems or indication of atheroma. No infections, viruses or other lurgi. Just a short term enlargement of the prostate, which I'm told is par for the course for a gentleman of my tender years. Considering the gratuitous self abuse I've lavished on this body over the years its resilience is nothing short of bloody miraculous.

Said to Doctor that I'd come in response to media coverage of prostate problems and some relatively minor symptoms. Her response. "I wouldn't bother about the media coverage. They just want us to be scared." Then promptly tossed the rest of my untaken medication into the recycling bin with unconcealed disdain. Good on yer, Doc. With that single gesture she won my complete confidence in her abilities as my physician.

In addition I spent half an hour on the phone this morning with one of my line managers who reassured me that they like what I'm doing, and to please carry on with the good work. So the sense that I think I've been banging my head against a brick wall for the past eighteen months is nothing they haven't seen before. They obviously haven't seen my expenses claim for last month then. Arf.

Mrs S and I had a nice lunch out to celebrate and we talked about me writing my experiences of Stepfatherhood into a book, the idea of which she approves.

It's been a nice day, but there's this nasty feeling lurking in the back of my mind that someone, somewhere is going to try and louse it up. Better make sure it's not me, then.

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