I thought it must have been showing kilograms, but when I squinted to read the fine print it said, “Sorry buddy, this is America, these are POUNDS!” With the breakneck speed of developing technology I am sure that in a couple of years the scale will be equipped with a face detection camera and will be interfaced to your kitchen’s refrigerator. In a 2001-Space-Odyssey scenario, the HAL voice will soothingly say something like, “Hello Dave, er I mean Dan. Here is a printout of the dates and times that you ate those 27 Dove bars last week. If you were living on Mercury your weight would be OK. But try to remember – this is Earth.”
In the exam room the nurse asked if I was on any meds. “Why yes I am. I eat one Dove bar once a day ½ hour before breakfast.” She also asked if I had any howitzers in the home and if I ever felt threatened. “Only if I leave my socks in the middle of the floor,” was my reply. She then took my blood pressure. It was actually pretty good – like 129 over 80 or something. If I remember correctly – for the ideal blood pressure the first number should be approximately twice your age. And for the last number you should add your telephone number to your age, divide by 6 and then multiply by the number of Dove bars you had that day.
She then instructed me to put on one of those really fashionable Tommy Hilfiger looking gowns. I work in the purchasing department of the hospital/clinic system that I went to the physical at and it never dawned on me that I should order some really really good gowns that actually have ties on them (and in the front!) and that cover more than 50 percent of your body. I got the gown on and somehow got it tied. I bet those guys on Cirque Du Soleil can’t tie those things.
While I waited for the doctor I read a couple of magazines. The oldest, Popular Science, had a really interesting article on the development of the printing press. And National Geographic had an article by Lewis and Clark on how they met Sacagawea. And Life had a cool article about how we landed on the moon. I didn’t know that.
When the doctor came in we chatted briefly. I have been going to him for about 20 years (or about 7 “annual” physicals I think it is). He is a really good doctor and very personable. He checked my heart (it was still beating), he checked my lungs (I was still breathing), he checked my reflexes (I still had some), and he checked my ears. Out of the corner of my eye I could see that the light from the otoscope coming OUT THE OTHER EAR created a silhouette of Mickey Mouse on the wall. “That’s odd,” the doctor remarked. And finally he asked me to say “Aaaahhhhhhh.” I guess that was to check out the little hangy down thing in the back of my throat to see if it was still there.
When he was done he mentioned I still needed to do the lab work stuff. So off I went to find the lab. When I went by the scale I swore I could hear it snickering.
I got to the lab and was greeted by the lab tech (more technically known as the “phlebotomist”). A phlebotomist is one who practices phlebotomy – which is the art of bloodletting. Bloodletting has been around for about 2000 years and has been practiced by the Mesopotamians, the Egyptians, the Aztecs, the Mayans and the Lutherans. And to quote from www.reference.com/fleabotomy: The popularity of bloodletting in Greece was reinforced by the ideas of Galen, after he discovered the veins and arteries were filled with blood, not air as was commonly believed…” Maybe they were first called “airteries.” Galen also believed that “humoral balance was the basis of illness or health, the four humours being blood, phlegm, black bile, and yellow bile.” Now I’m no doctor, but to me the four humors are guffawing, chortling, chuckling, and side-splitting-milk-coming-out-your-nose laughing.
And get this – and again I am quoting from www.reference.com/fleabotomy: “…the practice was continued by surgeons and BARBER-SURGEONS! Though the bloodletting was often recommended by physicians, it was carried out by BARBERS…the red-and-white-striped pole of the barbershop, still in use today, is derived from this practice: the red represents the blood being drawn, the white represents the tourniquet used, and the pole itself represents the stick squeezed in the patient's hand to dilate the veins.” Can you believe that?
And how about this: Leeches became especially popular in bloodletting in the early nineteenth century. In the first half of the 19th century hundreds of millions of leeches were used throughout Europe. And that doesn’t include those used for fishing! In 1824 a French sergeant was stabbed in the chest in combat. They took him to the local BloodLetAtorium. During his treatment over the next couple of weeks they “let” more than half of his blood supply and applied more than 70 leeches! And he survived! And we complain because the hospital Jell-O tastes like a Goodyear tire.
(Note to my congressman and senators: Have you guys read this? This is one sure way to lower medical costs! Leeches at Bill’s Bait and Barbecues are only $2.95 per dozen. But then again, once you guys start managing leeches they will probably cost $637.12 a dozen).
And just a couple other little tidbits about phlebotomitizing. One of the signers of the Declaration of Independence was a phlebotomist. Or at least believed in bloodletting. And George Washington was treated with bloodletting following a horseback riding accident. Almost 4 pounds of blood was withdrawn which contributed to his death in 1799. Shouldn’t the Secret Service have said something?
Back to my physical.
The lab tech filled the mason jar with blood, removed the leeches and I was done (except for filling that other little container).
A few days later I got the lab results back. But before I give you those results I have to confess something. About 17 days before my physical I ate a rhubarb pie. In one day. And not just a piece of rhubarb pie, an ENTIRE rhubarb pie. And about 2 days before my physical I ate ANOTHER rhubarb pie (except for one piece – I knew the dreaded “Scale” was waiting for me so I had to cut back).
So when I got the lab results back they read like this:
Dear Mr. Vander Ark
We have determined that you are still alive. The bad cholesterol is just a tad high, but it’s ok and the good cholesterol is just a little low but it’s ok so you won’t need to eat Lipitor or oatmeal or pine needles. But your rhubarb is a little high. Please watch the sweets.
And I always thought rhubarb pie was a vegetable.
Dan Vander Ark
Copyright 2009
All Rights Reserved
onetoomanypotatoes.blogspot.com
Saturday, October 17, 2009
My Cholesterol is OK, But My Rhubarb is a Little High
It was time for my annual physical. I was feeling OK but I knew that I should just get checked out. Or checked up I guess it is.
After waiting for a few minutes in the family clinic waiting room in our end of town, my doctor’s nurse came out and hollered, “DAN, GET IN HERE, NOW!” Not really. The nurse was nice and asked me to come back to the exam room. However, we first had to stop by the dreaded scale. I knew my weight had gone up a couple ounces since my last physical, but I wasn’t quite prepared for the number that flashed on the huge digital scoreboard out in the lobby. “Hey everyone in the waiting area, Dan’s weight has gone way, weigh up!!!” Maybe in the future that’s what they’ll do to motivate us to lose weight.
I thought it must have been showing kilograms, but when I squinted to read the fine print it said, “Sorry buddy, this is America, these are POUNDS!” With the breakneck speed of developing technology I am sure that in a couple of years the scale will be equipped with a face detection camera and will be interfaced to your kitchen’s refrigerator. In a 2001-Space-Odyssey scenario, the HAL voice will soothingly say something like, “Hello Dave, er I mean Dan. Here is a printout of the dates and times that you ate those 27 Dove bars last week. If you were living on Mercury your weight would be OK. But try to remember – this is Earth.”
In the exam room the nurse asked if I was on any meds. “Why yes I am. I eat one Dove bar once a day ½ hour before breakfast.” She also asked if I had any howitzers in the home and if I ever felt threatened. “Only if I leave my socks in the middle of the floor,” was my reply. She then took my blood pressure. It was actually pretty good – like 129 over 80 or something. If I remember correctly – for the ideal blood pressure the first number should be approximately twice your age. And for the last number you should add your telephone number to your age, divide by 6 and then multiply by the number of Dove bars you had that day.
She then instructed me to put on one of those really fashionable Tommy Hilfiger looking gowns. I work in the purchasing department of the hospital/clinic system that I went to the physical at and it never dawned on me that I should order some really really good gowns that actually have ties on them (and in the front!) and that cover more than 50 percent of your body. I got the gown on and somehow got it tied. I bet those guys on Cirque Du Soleil can’t tie those things.
While I waited for the doctor I read a couple of magazines. The oldest, Popular Science, had a really interesting article on the development of the printing press. And National Geographic had an article by Lewis and Clark on how they met Sacagawea. And Life had a cool article about how we landed on the moon. I didn’t know that.
When the doctor came in we chatted briefly. I have been going to him for about 20 years (or about 7 “annual” physicals I think it is). He is a really good doctor and very personable. He checked my heart (it was still beating), he checked my lungs (I was still breathing), he checked my reflexes (I still had some), and he checked my ears. Out of the corner of my eye I could see that the light from the otoscope coming OUT THE OTHER EAR created a silhouette of Mickey Mouse on the wall. “That’s odd,” the doctor remarked. And finally he asked me to say “Aaaahhhhhhh.” I guess that was to check out the little hangy down thing in the back of my throat to see if it was still there.
When he was done he mentioned I still needed to do the lab work stuff. So off I went to find the lab. When I went by the scale I swore I could hear it snickering.
I got to the lab and was greeted by the lab tech (more technically known as the “phlebotomist”). A phlebotomist is one who practices phlebotomy – which is the art of bloodletting. Bloodletting has been around for about 2000 years and has been practiced by the Mesopotamians, the Egyptians, the Aztecs, the Mayans and the Lutherans. And to quote from www.reference.com/fleabotomy: The popularity of bloodletting in Greece was reinforced by the ideas of Galen, after he discovered the veins and arteries were filled with blood, not air as was commonly believed…” Maybe they were first called “airteries.” Galen also believed that “humoral balance was the basis of illness or health, the four humours being blood, phlegm, black bile, and yellow bile.” Now I’m no doctor, but to me the four humors are guffawing, chortling, chuckling, and side-splitting-milk-coming-out-your-nose laughing.
And get this – and again I am quoting from www.reference.com/fleabotomy: “…the practice was continued by surgeons and BARBER-SURGEONS! Though the bloodletting was often recommended by physicians, it was carried out by BARBERS…the red-and-white-striped pole of the barbershop, still in use today, is derived from this practice: the red represents the blood being drawn, the white represents the tourniquet used, and the pole itself represents the stick squeezed in the patient's hand to dilate the veins.” Can you believe that?
And how about this: Leeches became especially popular in bloodletting in the early nineteenth century. In the first half of the 19th century hundreds of millions of leeches were used throughout Europe. And that doesn’t include those used for fishing! In 1824 a French sergeant was stabbed in the chest in combat. They took him to the local BloodLetAtorium. During his treatment over the next couple of weeks they “let” more than half of his blood supply and applied more than 70 leeches! And he survived! And we complain because the hospital Jell-O tastes like a Goodyear tire.
(Note to my congressman and senators: Have you guys read this? This is one sure way to lower medical costs! Leeches at Bill’s Bait and Barbecues are only $2.95 per dozen. But then again, once you guys start managing leeches they will probably cost $637.12 a dozen).
And just a couple other little tidbits about phlebotomitizing. One of the signers of the Declaration of Independence was a phlebotomist. Or at least believed in bloodletting. And George Washington was treated with bloodletting following a horseback riding accident. Almost 4 pounds of blood was withdrawn which contributed to his death in 1799. Shouldn’t the Secret Service have said something?
Back to my physical.
The lab tech filled the mason jar with blood, removed the leeches and I was done (except for filling that other little container).
A few days later I got the lab results back. But before I give you those results I have to confess something. About 17 days before my physical I ate a rhubarb pie. In one day. And not just a piece of rhubarb pie, an ENTIRE rhubarb pie. And about 2 days before my physical I ate ANOTHER rhubarb pie (except for one piece – I knew the dreaded “Scale” was waiting for me so I had to cut back).
So when I got the lab results back they read like this:
Dear Mr. Vander Ark
We have determined that you are still alive. The bad cholesterol is just a tad high, but it’s ok and the good cholesterol is just a little low but it’s ok so you won’t need to eat Lipitor or oatmeal or pine needles. But your rhubarb is a little high. Please watch the sweets.
And I always thought rhubarb pie was a vegetable.
Dan Vander Ark
Copyright 2009
All Rights Reserved
onetoomanypotatoes.blogspot.com
I thought it must have been showing kilograms, but when I squinted to read the fine print it said, “Sorry buddy, this is America, these are POUNDS!” With the breakneck speed of developing technology I am sure that in a couple of years the scale will be equipped with a face detection camera and will be interfaced to your kitchen’s refrigerator. In a 2001-Space-Odyssey scenario, the HAL voice will soothingly say something like, “Hello Dave, er I mean Dan. Here is a printout of the dates and times that you ate those 27 Dove bars last week. If you were living on Mercury your weight would be OK. But try to remember – this is Earth.”
In the exam room the nurse asked if I was on any meds. “Why yes I am. I eat one Dove bar once a day ½ hour before breakfast.” She also asked if I had any howitzers in the home and if I ever felt threatened. “Only if I leave my socks in the middle of the floor,” was my reply. She then took my blood pressure. It was actually pretty good – like 129 over 80 or something. If I remember correctly – for the ideal blood pressure the first number should be approximately twice your age. And for the last number you should add your telephone number to your age, divide by 6 and then multiply by the number of Dove bars you had that day.
She then instructed me to put on one of those really fashionable Tommy Hilfiger looking gowns. I work in the purchasing department of the hospital/clinic system that I went to the physical at and it never dawned on me that I should order some really really good gowns that actually have ties on them (and in the front!) and that cover more than 50 percent of your body. I got the gown on and somehow got it tied. I bet those guys on Cirque Du Soleil can’t tie those things.
While I waited for the doctor I read a couple of magazines. The oldest, Popular Science, had a really interesting article on the development of the printing press. And National Geographic had an article by Lewis and Clark on how they met Sacagawea. And Life had a cool article about how we landed on the moon. I didn’t know that.
When the doctor came in we chatted briefly. I have been going to him for about 20 years (or about 7 “annual” physicals I think it is). He is a really good doctor and very personable. He checked my heart (it was still beating), he checked my lungs (I was still breathing), he checked my reflexes (I still had some), and he checked my ears. Out of the corner of my eye I could see that the light from the otoscope coming OUT THE OTHER EAR created a silhouette of Mickey Mouse on the wall. “That’s odd,” the doctor remarked. And finally he asked me to say “Aaaahhhhhhh.” I guess that was to check out the little hangy down thing in the back of my throat to see if it was still there.
When he was done he mentioned I still needed to do the lab work stuff. So off I went to find the lab. When I went by the scale I swore I could hear it snickering.
I got to the lab and was greeted by the lab tech (more technically known as the “phlebotomist”). A phlebotomist is one who practices phlebotomy – which is the art of bloodletting. Bloodletting has been around for about 2000 years and has been practiced by the Mesopotamians, the Egyptians, the Aztecs, the Mayans and the Lutherans. And to quote from www.reference.com/fleabotomy: The popularity of bloodletting in Greece was reinforced by the ideas of Galen, after he discovered the veins and arteries were filled with blood, not air as was commonly believed…” Maybe they were first called “airteries.” Galen also believed that “humoral balance was the basis of illness or health, the four humours being blood, phlegm, black bile, and yellow bile.” Now I’m no doctor, but to me the four humors are guffawing, chortling, chuckling, and side-splitting-milk-coming-out-your-nose laughing.
And get this – and again I am quoting from www.reference.com/fleabotomy: “…the practice was continued by surgeons and BARBER-SURGEONS! Though the bloodletting was often recommended by physicians, it was carried out by BARBERS…the red-and-white-striped pole of the barbershop, still in use today, is derived from this practice: the red represents the blood being drawn, the white represents the tourniquet used, and the pole itself represents the stick squeezed in the patient's hand to dilate the veins.” Can you believe that?
And how about this: Leeches became especially popular in bloodletting in the early nineteenth century. In the first half of the 19th century hundreds of millions of leeches were used throughout Europe. And that doesn’t include those used for fishing! In 1824 a French sergeant was stabbed in the chest in combat. They took him to the local BloodLetAtorium. During his treatment over the next couple of weeks they “let” more than half of his blood supply and applied more than 70 leeches! And he survived! And we complain because the hospital Jell-O tastes like a Goodyear tire.
(Note to my congressman and senators: Have you guys read this? This is one sure way to lower medical costs! Leeches at Bill’s Bait and Barbecues are only $2.95 per dozen. But then again, once you guys start managing leeches they will probably cost $637.12 a dozen).
And just a couple other little tidbits about phlebotomitizing. One of the signers of the Declaration of Independence was a phlebotomist. Or at least believed in bloodletting. And George Washington was treated with bloodletting following a horseback riding accident. Almost 4 pounds of blood was withdrawn which contributed to his death in 1799. Shouldn’t the Secret Service have said something?
Back to my physical.
The lab tech filled the mason jar with blood, removed the leeches and I was done (except for filling that other little container).
A few days later I got the lab results back. But before I give you those results I have to confess something. About 17 days before my physical I ate a rhubarb pie. In one day. And not just a piece of rhubarb pie, an ENTIRE rhubarb pie. And about 2 days before my physical I ate ANOTHER rhubarb pie (except for one piece – I knew the dreaded “Scale” was waiting for me so I had to cut back).
So when I got the lab results back they read like this:
Dear Mr. Vander Ark
We have determined that you are still alive. The bad cholesterol is just a tad high, but it’s ok and the good cholesterol is just a little low but it’s ok so you won’t need to eat Lipitor or oatmeal or pine needles. But your rhubarb is a little high. Please watch the sweets.
And I always thought rhubarb pie was a vegetable.
Dan Vander Ark
Copyright 2009
All Rights Reserved
onetoomanypotatoes.blogspot.com
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What a great story. Enjoyed your post!
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