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I went to see my GP's stand-in doctor today.
Everything checked out normal. My iron, B12, hemoglobin, and various other bodily substances are fine. My liver and kidney function is A-okay. We didn't discuss my fasting blood sugar level, but since he didn't mention it, I'm guessing it's not in the stratosphere.
The stand-in doctor seemed remarkably reluctant to dirty his hand's with another man's patient. He offered no explanation for my condition (which has been gradually improving) except to agree with me when I suggested that it might be a muscle virus and to recommend that if I'm still sick next week, I should make an appointment to see, you know, my own doctor. Because obviously he, the stand-in doctor, was not capable of doing anything.
*sigh* Reassuring, but also frustrating. His only other recommendation was to use heat on my back, and if that didn't work, to try Rub A535 on it. I have an old tube of Ben Gay on the medicine cabinet shelf, which I suppose will have to do.
On the way home I stopped at the Safeway in Osborne Village and picked up bread, apples, soup, margerine, tomatoes, sliced roast chicken, and a whole bunch of other meat products (hamburgers, sausages, steaks). For some reason I'm compelled to stock up on protein. No idea why. Oh, and a 2 litre of Diet Pepsi (in exciting new packaging!), because I've been craving carbonated drinks like a bitch lately. When I got home, George remarked that obviously now he has to shop for his own groceries, since I didn't get him a 2 litre Coke as well. I very nearly took his head off: I had just finished hauling home two heavy cloth bags of groceries on the bus, still feeling punky, and I'd be damned if he couldn't walk a block to the local Shell gas station and get his own bloody drinks, thank you very much. He tried to pass it off as a joke. I was not impressed or convinced.
Again, *sigh*.
I just woke up from a three-hour nap. Terri called asking if we were going out for coffee this evening, and I had to bow out because I'm feeling like shit on a shingle. And HB looms yet ahead. Oh, joy.
Off to eat some Chunky Soup (Fajita Beef) and then back to the keyboard.
Everything checked out normal. My iron, B12, hemoglobin, and various other bodily substances are fine. My liver and kidney function is A-okay. We didn't discuss my fasting blood sugar level, but since he didn't mention it, I'm guessing it's not in the stratosphere.
The stand-in doctor seemed remarkably reluctant to dirty his hand's with another man's patient. He offered no explanation for my condition (which has been gradually improving) except to agree with me when I suggested that it might be a muscle virus and to recommend that if I'm still sick next week, I should make an appointment to see, you know, my own doctor. Because obviously he, the stand-in doctor, was not capable of doing anything.
*sigh* Reassuring, but also frustrating. His only other recommendation was to use heat on my back, and if that didn't work, to try Rub A535 on it. I have an old tube of Ben Gay on the medicine cabinet shelf, which I suppose will have to do.
On the way home I stopped at the Safeway in Osborne Village and picked up bread, apples, soup, margerine, tomatoes, sliced roast chicken, and a whole bunch of other meat products (hamburgers, sausages, steaks). For some reason I'm compelled to stock up on protein. No idea why. Oh, and a 2 litre of Diet Pepsi (in exciting new packaging!), because I've been craving carbonated drinks like a bitch lately. When I got home, George remarked that obviously now he has to shop for his own groceries, since I didn't get him a 2 litre Coke as well. I very nearly took his head off: I had just finished hauling home two heavy cloth bags of groceries on the bus, still feeling punky, and I'd be damned if he couldn't walk a block to the local Shell gas station and get his own bloody drinks, thank you very much. He tried to pass it off as a joke. I was not impressed or convinced.
Again, *sigh*.
I just woke up from a three-hour nap. Terri called asking if we were going out for coffee this evening, and I had to bow out because I'm feeling like shit on a shingle. And HB looms yet ahead. Oh, joy.
Off to eat some Chunky Soup (Fajita Beef) and then back to the keyboard.
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