Dear doctor, I hate you

I had to get a biometric screen (that’s a fancy word for physical) to keep my insurance from going up yet again.  I think I would rather have had my insurance go up.  Anyone have a time machine?

Dr. – Did you fast for the last six hours?

Me – No, was I supposed to?

Dr. – Yes.

Me – Well no one told me to.  Just do the blood work.  I’m not coming back.

Dr. – Your levels will be off, especially if you drank milk.

Me – (How does she know I drank milk?  How fat am I?)  Oh cool, I had almond milk.  Light almond milk, trying to lose weight.

Dr stares at me.  – OK.  (Test results later show Dr. was 100% right or I have preliminary diabetes).

Dr. – You smoke?

Me – No.

Dr. – Ever?

Me – (Who is this Spanish Inquisition motherfucker?  Back off my nuts!) In college.

Dr. – Drink?

Me – (Well Judas priest, I’m toast now.)  A little.  Just like four or five a week.

Dr. stares at me.  Writes something down.  Probably not good.  (Clears throat) Well, let’s check your BMI.  Oooh, you’re higher than before.

Me – Aren’t those all messed up?  I lift weights.  Muscle weighs more than fat.  (Tries to remember last time I lifted weights, imagines that I still have muscle).

Dr. – Um.  Yeah, a little bit.  (Stares at chart that lets me know I went from overweight to obese long enough to send message).

Me – OK, thanks doc.  (Plans to get new doctor or eat nothing but notebook paper and kale until the next visit.)