Went to my doctor today for a ‘physical’. My first one ever, actually.

The upshot of it all is that I’m not marked for death, but I’ve definitely got the pen and paper in front of me.

Bill walks me through the results of all the various analyses. “You’re healthier on paper.”

I showed Bill (my doctor) my weight and calorie tracker. He thought this was a great idea. But he was less than impressed with the direction of the squiggly chart lines. “Why does it keep going up? Aren’t you trying to head in the other direction?” As you can see, I didn’t do too well this morning. Still at 350.

I admit that I have to agree with him. For a lot of people, just the very act of tracking their food intake is enough to clue them in to their own habits. That is often a real shock to people. Then they start to lose weight because they’re aware of what they’re putting into my body.

I guess I’m a harder nut to crack. I track my intake (much of the time, but not all the time) but I often just say #$%& it and pig out on something.

And that’s why I went in to get a physical. And here are the results:

Uhhhhhh-Ohhhhhhhhhhh

I took pics of my blood and piss analysis printouts while Bill ducked out to yack with some urgent patient. I felt like one of those 1960s spies with those little tiny slide cameras as I put the printouts on the doctor’s table. I looked for a black ski mask and an open window to scamper out of along with my secret information. But then Bill walked in and started to go over the results with me. Which brought him to Problem #1.

Do you see that column on the far-right called Code Abnormal? You’re not supposed to have  any numbers anywhere in that column. They be bad. You want that column to be empty.

Me, I’ve got two numbers there. And they’re the ones you really don’t want to see: Hemoglobin and Glucose values. They’re high.

“You’re pre-diabetic, pal” Bill told me.

“If you don’t lose weight and get those numbers down you’re going to start losing legs and eyes and all manner of what-all.”

“Oh.” I said. I wanted to come back at him with some funny response but nothing came to mind. I guess I could have said, “It’s Paul, not Pal.” I mean ‘pal’ was a bit gratuitous. So that could have been a bit clever. But sometimes unfunny things are just unfunny. And they’re serious. Like, for real type of serious.

Maybe this is actually what I need. Hard data is hard data. When you get numbers like those, you think ‘I better get a plan together.’ And then you think to yourself, ‘Well, he didn’t precisely exactly definitively say I could become diabetic. He said pre-diabetic. So maybe I don’t really have to worry that much. Come to think of it, I’m hungry.’

And that’s the problem, isn’t it. Deep down I don’t sincerely and genuinely and energetically want to change my eating habits. I want the smaller body, just not the smaller eating.

More on the results from my physical tomorrow. It’s been a long day, it’s late now and I’m totally george bushed. Going to pack it in for the night. Talk to you tomorrow.