So I did go into school this morning and I worked for a few hours. What a weird place. Looks like one or two of the rooms they're working on may be ready for next week, but not most of them. Where they're going to put people, I don't know.I believe I mentioned last week that they had put a "portable" air conditioner in the library, and that it looked like Robbie the Robot of Lost in Space and Forbidden Planet fame:
Did I lie? All I know is that they're going to have to find something else to put it on, because I need to put the printer there. Morons.
I had to go back to the gynecologist for more bloodwork today, because she increased my dosage of estrogen (and the surrounding community breathes a sigh of relief) and needs to make sure that it is enough! HAH! In the meantime, the endoscopy doctor has neither called me on his own nor has he returned my call, although his worker bee told me he would call me at 4:30 this afternoon. These are not appropriate business skills, people! I can't even say that oh well, this means that there's nothing drastically wrong, because I don't believe that they would necessarily make the urgent phone call even it was necessary. Not that I do think there's something catastrophic, but if I need to be on medication, I'd like to get on with it already.
I found the attitude towards my weight situation in all the doctor's offices I've been to lately quite interesting. Now, I realize that I am not tremendously overweight, although according to all those benighted charts (which I don't believe anyway) I have a serious problem! According to them, I am a good 20 to 25 pounds overweight. I would be personally happy to lose 10, and it's all sitting around my waist and middle. But what everyone seemed to think -- doctors, their assistants, you name it -- was that You're just fine! You're not heavy -- look at me!
Yeah, I got it, you're heavier than I am. Frankly, that is neither my problem nor my business. I am not concerned with how anyone else looks or feels. I know that I could have a somewhat flatter tummy because I worked down to it just one year ago. It has to be possible. It can't be menopause, because that's in its tenth year now, and I think it would have been a factor last year too if it were going to be a factor.
I know that I could just be content weighing what I weigh -- it's not the number I have a problem with -- and accept that getting older usually includes getting the paunch. I know that, and I'm tired of these bozos telling me. I also know that it's only going to get worse, and I have more power to do something about it now than I will in twenty years. Why shouldn't I try to get rid of it?
You know, the common image of a little old lady with osteoporosis is that she is hunched over a little bit; she has what used to be called "dowager's hump." Well, yes and no. The spine starts to curl over and gets shorter overall, but there's more to it than that. As the spine shortens, there is less room in the body cavity for all the organs that go there. In some cases, the ribs begin to close in, making breathing more difficult. Ultimately, the belly bulges out, too, because the stomach and the liver and all that other stuff has to have some place to go. It's not good for them to be all crowded together like that. It's not comfortable for the wearer, either. My mother, in her last years, looked like she was carrying about a fourth month pregnancy. It bulged out in front; it seemed to be pulling her down. It was not, as they say, a pretty sight. Yes, I'm doing everything I can to ward off all those nasties that came to me in my DNA, including osteo, but still. How do I know that my tummy bulge isn't going to turn into something more than just pudge? I don't care about the pudge, but I'd like all my organs to stay where they are, please. (Except my uterus, which, it is well known, I would only like to keep if I can keep it in a jar.)
Once again, I know I'm small. These people keep telling me this as if I've never noticed it myself. Sheesh.
