Time for a...delicious...breakfast...of...plain black coffee?
Yes, because I've got labs. All I have to do is refrain from having breakfast until after they have drawn some blood this morning, but that's plenty. Maybe I'll have time for a nice donut after!
This is the usual outcome of going to the doctor. At my age, the medicos are like cats watching a mousehole. Blood sugar? Cholesterol? Barratry? Yaws? ...They're just waiting to pounce. Well, except probably barratry.
Also, I have probably got unhappy metatarsals. These are not, as any normal person would expect, mutated kangaroos, but bones in your foot, and it may be the cumulative effect of repeatedly stubbing my middle toes because I bought the wrong size sandals to wear around the house. Feels like a pebble under the ball of my feet when I walk barefoot on a hard floor. Going to get sent to a podiatrist for that. They aren't the ones that just talk, are they? Or pod-doctors? Or both? "Now, zen, vhen you were chust little itty-bitty feet, vere you ever replaced by exaaagt dupligates grown under ze compost pile?" ...Probably not.
T. R. MCELROY'S STREAMLINED TELEGRAPH KEYS
1 year ago