I had three weird things said to me by health care professionals last week. Number One. My family doctor told me I needed to lose weight “so I could feel better about my self.”
Now, I am 5’4″ and weigh 146. I could stand to lose 15 pounds. So, I don’t mind being told that, but where did he get any ideas that I wasn’t feeling good about myself. I’m about to turn 56 years old. I enjoy my wine and Cheetos. I may or may not lost weight, but I still feel good about myself.
Number Two. The girl who was taking my eyesight readings at the eye doc’s office. She says that I might want to get glasses for night driving. Then I won’t have to “be afraid to drive at night”. I am not, nor have I ever been afraid to drive at night. And the eye doc said “Pah, you don’t need glasses to drive at night. She was just trying for a Christmas bonus.”
Number Three. The eye doc, looking at my chart, where I had written that I take Prozac, pats me on the arm and says “There, there, what do YOU have to be depressed about?” I have nothing to be depressed about. Depression is a genetic gift I was given from my maternal grandfather, through my mother to me. When I hear how my grandfather suffered with depression before there was any understanding of it, and how my mother was put on tranquilizers most of her adult life, I am extremely grateful for Prozac which keeps my seritonin levels stable. I would think a health care professional would know that.
Ok, two things I can’t find…..my cookie press and my Christmas tree. Yeah, my damn Christmas tree. We got a small artificial tree last year which fits into the boxbay window and doesn’t take up floor space. I can’t find it.
Ok, I guess I better go look some more! 😉