124 over 72

At the second of my twice yearly checkups Monday, all my numbers were good. Cholesterol was good, A1C was good, vitamin D was fine, and my blood pressure was 124/72. My doctor was fine with that. I was ecstatic; my BP had been creeping high for about a year and a half and I fully expected to be given meds for it if it had stayed up. 

I almost hate saying things like this, because we all have stories of someone bragging about how good their health was and then keeling over a minute later. But I feel great, better honestly than I have in twenty years, physically and mentally. Seeing that blood pressure drop almost 25 points can help an outlook too. I guess there is something to that exercise thing.

Still, the doc did have to take a minute to excoriate me about something. "You could stand to lose 10 to 15 pounds, Mr. Cosgriff. After all, you've gained two pounds since February."

What is it about doctors and weight? "You've gained two pounds since February," I wanted to say in a mocking voice. Come on, doc, everything's great. Two pounds in six months is, what, 2/3 of a pound a month. Okay, maybe technically I am headed in the wrong direction there. But I ain't exactly eating myself to death either. 

But, all right, I have until next February, me Mom's birthday in fact, when my next appointment has been set, to drop 10-15 pounds. But if I actually do, a big if in itself I concede, I can't help but wonder what he might find to complain about instead. 

Not what the doctor ordered

Dad's doctor, whom I'll call Dr. Smith simply to be generic even as it unlikely any of you would actually know the man, one day walked into the examination room where Pops waited for him, looking down. "Why so glum, Doc?" the old man asked.

"Oh, my wife and I had a little spat last night," He replied. "I arrived home from a long day at the office and she immediately went into a long diatribe on her day. She went on and on and I just stood there staring at her. Finally she asked, well, are you going to say anything?"

'In a minute, I replied," said Dr. Smith. "I first have to determine the important from the unimportant information." He looked at Dad and said, "Not a smart thing to say to your wife, Bill."

"I imagine not," Pops laughed.