Let's Get Physical

It is amazing that we are still here.

Those of us of a certain age (ahem) managed to survive a childhood without seatbelts or car seats, warnings on drug packages and, for the most part, air conditioning.  If you had questions about your health, you asked the kindly doctor or looked up your presumed malady in the 50s version of the Internet, the Encyclopedia Britannica (available at your local library).  We didn’t exercise beyond the requirements of gym class, which was more focused on making sure we had washed and ironed our “gym suits” than on our health or well-being.  We didn’t know about healthy eating.  Even Weight Watchers didn’t start until I was a teenager.

Today things are vastly different.  People ride all around the parking lot looking for a good spot outside the gym so they can go inside and ride a bike, lift weights or swim.  Outside, in all kinds of weather, you’ll find people walking or running their way to good health. 

There are all kinds of rules and regulations that are supposed to keep us safe and healthy.  If you have, suspect or merely dread a disease or condition, you can look it up on the internet and get a ton of sometimes useful information that may either help or lead you to a self-diagnosis that is way off-base.  You can read the symptoms of something and decide you have it even when that is impossible (check out the symptoms of prostate problems sometime, ladies). 

Despite this abundance of information, it is still best to go to the doctor for preventive maintenance or to “rule out” what you think may be malaria, whooping cough or something that may require the use of leeches.

Now my health insurer, United Health Care, even offers an incentive to be checked.  I had my regular eye doctor appointment and they sent me a $25 gift card for Amazon (which I promptly spent by buying a new water filter for my refrigerator; how exciting is that?).  When I go to see the gynecologist, I get another $25, and my physical earned me 50 bucks.

Given what I had to do to get my physical, it was money well earned.

I have been going to the same primary care physician for years.  I’m sure they have a full set of my health records in their computer system.  In fact, when I checked in, the person at the desk retrieved a file that was larger than the Manhattan phone book.  Nevertheless, I was required to stop at the office in advance to pick up forms to complete and return on the day of my physical.

First, could the spacing be ANY smaller on the form?  Do you know how hard it is to write “right hemicolectomy” in that tiny space? 

Second, the questions they ask – which should be in my file already – were tougher than the SATs.

How am I supposed to know how old I was when I had the measles?  I’m 67 now, and I know it wasn’t recent.  What if I say I was 6?  Can anyone corroborate that?  What happens if I was really 8?  Who would know?  Does it matter?  Couldn’t a simple YES or NO have been checked off?

Do I have spots in front of my eyes?  Well, I have wet macular degeneration, but there is no box to check off for that, so I did say I see spots before my eyes.  Besides, I couldn’t figure out where to write that in.  Is it a disease or a condition?  What, am I supposed to be a doctor to define it?

Do I have trouble sleeping?  Everyone my age has trouble sleeping.  We wake up to use the bathroom and can’t get back to sleep.  Oops, that’s a different question: “Night time urination?  How often?”

Do I snore (which is listed under the “Illnesses” section)?  Well, I live alone, so that’s a tough one.  The last time I had to fill out this form, I did a test.  I was staying with friends and kept the bedroom door open all night.  When they got up to use the bathroom (see above question on nighttime urination), they stood outside my bedroom door and listened.  How creepy does THAT sound?  Apparently I don’t snore, or at least I didn’t that night.

Do I have pains in my joints, my back, my head?  Of course!  Sometimes I’m out for a walk and suddenly my ankle hurts for no reason.  I walk it off and then I’m fine.  Raise your hand if this happens to you, too. 

And then there are the questions about depression, crying, lack of energy (see “trouble sleeping”) decreased interest in daily activities, thoughts of suicide, etc.  If you really suffer from these things, how likely is it that you will check off the tiny boxes on this form? 

How about drug use?  Do you want to say yes to the question, “Have you ever taken drugs for other than medicinal purposes?”  And then they leave you a tiny bit of space to explain the details of your drug habit.  I’m just glad they don’t ask about addictions to chocolate and other food groups!

At least I can breeze through the sections about smoking (“NEVER” I write down, proudly) and drinking (“Have people annoyed you by criticizing your drinking?”  No, they just annoy me when they are stupid.).

Are you overweight?  Seriously, did you not just weigh and measure me?  Come on – can’t you see that for yourself?  It might be interesting to see some people’s responses to that question, but I dejectedly checked the “Yes” box. 

The previous question appears in close proximity to the question about having weight loss.  I’m working on that, but see previous question.

And then we get to the hospitalizations section of the questionnaire.  My sister has had enough surgeries that she doesn’t have room to list them on her form.  You have to fill out the form and say why you were operated on.  I live in fear that someday I will forget the term “right hemicolectomy,” which is the official name for the procedure used to treat my colon cancer in 2000. 

The personal section for women is always a fun exercise.

At what age was the onset of menstruation?  When was your last period?  At this age, memory is more of an issue than remembering the last time I needed to buy tampons, let’s face it.  Is any of this going to explain why my shoulder hurts?

I used to be able to fill out these forms so fast, simply checking the “No” column for virtually every illness, disease and condition.  Now, like most of us, I have to stop and think, check my files (which do not extend back to when I had the measles) and, in some cases, give it my best guess.

The diagnosis here should be “normal for a woman of her age.”

Then it is on to the doctor's office with the forms.

After going through the usual preliminaries with the nurse – height (proudly 5’1”) and weight (let’s move along here), blood pressure, temperature (I was only 98.5, which shows how cool I am, right?) – we get more serious with the EKG, where I had sticky things affixed to my body at various places and then a mass of wires hooked me up to a machine to check my heart (mine was warm and kind and beating regularly), followed by the list of shots I was missing.  It was 10 years since my last tetanus shot and time for a pneumonia injection, too.

Then the doctor showed up.  Assuming that I would be taken to task for a weight gain since my last physical, I was ready with a defense as well as ready to attest to my renewed dedication to Weight Watchers.  I also launched a distraction by providing a list of ailments I wanted her to check (among others: The little lump on my right shin – a cyst, she said, apply warm compresses if it bothers you; it doesn’t).  We discussed my aching shoulder (I will be starting my shoulder exercises any day now, I vowed) and my trigger finger (better since my last cortisone injection and not serious enough for surgery, in my own expert opinion).  So my strategy worked and she bypassed my weight issue, which was a relief but nonetheless still an issue.  I need to see a dermatologist for a routine exam, so she recommended a replacement for the one I was using because she retired.  I'm at the age when my doctors are all younger than I am.  That's not a bad thing since who wants to go to a doddering old doctor?

I got off easy.  Everything checked out.  I have a few follow-ups and tests to undergo, and then there is my annual gynecology appointment along with my mammogram, and she will send my bloodwork to the many medical people who are waiting eagerly for the results. 

And no one ever asked me whether or when I had the measles.  Phew!