02 January 2013 by Sarah Tevendale
The sort of ‘interesting’ that the Chinese might wish you when wishing you one of those dodgy years that might look a lot better than it smells. On my visit to the doctor on Monday to get my sore shoulder sorted, I not only got an injection into the joint (ouch), but a battery of blood tests too. I’d had the same tests in the summer and the words Multiple Myeloma were bandied and I was sent for tests to rule it out… which thankfully was the case. Since then, I haven’t been back, fearing that an ear ache might result on amputation of my head or athlete’s foot in a diagnosis of gangrene. Call me a coward and I’ll readily answer to it.
I won’t even go for mamograms and smear tests theres days – I’ve come to the conclusion that the fear and stress created by all these tests is harmful to my health and peace of mind, after all, I have to die of something!
Anyway, in the end the shoulder got so sore, I had to go as I couldn’t even put my bra on without yelping and whimpering in pain. The choice of daily pain or my nipples poking out below the hem of my skirt just wasn’t the sort of decision I was prepared to make, so off I went. Apart from the shoulder, I felt glowingly healthy. After poking a needle into my shoulder, and while I was off guard, my Doctor casually said: “All right if I take a few blood tests?’ and before my brain could engage, my mouth had said yes and the needle was in my arm. “Fine”, I thought, I’ve been feeling pretty ok over the past few months and it’ll be nice to make the na-na-na-naaa-nah playground noise when I could prove that my cholesterol was still at a respectable 5 and my blood sugars better than those of skinny bitches. I went home and forgot about everything apart from the mad burning in my shoulder… until this afternoon.
Bum. It seems some of my liver enzymes are all out of kilter and despite giving up butter and eating well and losing a stone, it seems my cholesterol is also up to 7 – time to go for an ultrasound on my liver and a consultation with a liver specialist. See? Every time I go to the doctors I come out feeling a darned sight worse than when I went in. I shall have to go and have it checked now, so my imagination doesn’t start playing all sorts of tricks, but what a right, royal pain in the arse.
Sod it, I’m off to the hairdresser tomorrow to have all my hair cut off – I’m bored with it and feeling ennui at looking like an unkempt yeti, so I shall focus on how nice I shall feel tomorrow after being relieved of lots of hair and even more money.
I still maintain 2013 will be a good year, even if I have to make a late resolution never to go near a GP surgery ever again!