I’m not one for hospitals. I only go if I have to go and even then, it’s usually because I’m forced in some way. I had the family-type visits to a regular doctor when I was a kid in one of those family-type situations, but as an adult and being on my own I just never saw the need for one. Not having a family or spouse or anything probably has a lot to do with it as well, and then there’s the whole issue of being adopted and not having any medical history that adds to the mix. I guess I just don’t care to know medical things. If it hurts to the point where it dramatically impacts my lifestyle then yes, I’ll go and get something looked at. Anything else, I’ll adapt.
My first real visit to the hospital was for an appendectomy back in 1985. I don’t remember anything about it aside from getting to miss some university classes at the time. After that there was the ‘car meet bike’ incident in 1993 that had me in for some stitches to my head. Next up was a ‘mole of concern’ spotted by a blood clinic Doc during a routine physical about 6 years ago and after that just a few quick trips in regards to my knee. And now, in the near future that is, my knee surgery will be my next hospital happening.
I did see my regular medicentre Doc today though, for the physical that’s needed by my future knee surgeon (I met him already …he’s ok). Hopefully I can drop the papers off at his office on Monday and they’ll be able to give me an actual date for surgery. It’s a simple arthroscopic procedure for that nagging meniscus (the one that has stopped me from running this entire year practically …and sleeping well too!) and I’m looking forward to getting it over and done with and getting on with some quick rehab while Winter bears down all too soon. But about my medicentre Doc… The physical was rather short and sweet but it did entail the customary ‘turn your head and cough’ bit. It seemed though, that Doc was hanging out a bit too long down there (if you know what I mean) but I guess for good reason …turns out I may possibly be closing in on something called an ‘inguinal hernia‘. I got a few details from him of course, and what I didn’t get from him I got from Google. Thanks google …you’re the greatest (not smiling).
So yeah, I guess one thing leads to another when you get older. It’s nothing of concern of course because I don’t really feel any symptoms, yet, but it is something that I now have to watch. I’m not a watcher though …more of a doer. And when you’re doer-ing is going to the gym and lifting heavy things, going to your job and lifting other heavy things, and then going to your other job and doing more of the same, well …you get the picture. Which is why I don’t like hospitals; they’re for people who aren’t doer-ing, and I’d rather be doer-ing than not.
So when I get old(er) and can no longer doer, can I get you guys to drag me out to the frozen tundra and leave me on some remote ice-sheet for the cold or some wolves to eventually doer me in? Huh? Pretty please?
