Fat Middle Aged Man

I've had another 'medical' day today, off to see the back doctor again up in Fulham. After my severe relapse three weeks ago I'm back to normal decrepitude again and, consequently, have no real significant ailments to diagnose. Ho hum. But we talked about different types and sources of pain, which was interesting and helps me understand what's going on within the ruins of my temple. I go back again at the end of October.

In the course of our weighty medical discussions I mentioned my liver doctor saying that the pills I was taking for my back could be bad for me - the words just slipped out, 'my liver doctor'... how many doctors can a poor boy have? Which reminds me, my liver doctor has diagnosed me as having "non-alcoholic fatty-liver disease". I would take offense (I'm sure my liver is as nice as that of any other fat man) but the first part of that phrase is a relief. He's also written to my GP pratice to say I should be prescribed some more pills to off-set the side effects of my back pills... Pick me up and shake me - I rattle.

Of course, it would be a lot simpler to diagnose me as having 'fat middle aged man' disease. That's what it is, after all, when you lump all the different things together.

A light shines in the gloom of all this medical mayhem around me. And that light is Aruna, my dietician and newest guru. Isn't it wonderful what you can get on the NHS? I saw Aruna on Friday to discuss my diet and how food can help manage diabetese and all my other internal ailments and failings. We came to the conclusion that I have a pretty good diet as it is (being a veggie and all) but that my demons were cheese and booze. I eat far too much of the solid fat stuff and use it as a staple so I now need to re-explore my tastebuds and culinary skills. It's a long time since I actually cooked anything (as opposed to warmed it up) so I need a nice veggie cookbook. I see her again in December to swap recipes. I include news of Aruna so that if you hear me saying (as I discovered I was wont to do over the weekend), "well, Aruna says ..." then you know where I'm coming from.

My 'medical' days always make me feel odd and tired. When I got back from Fulham late this afternoon I felt incredibly tired so had a lie down 'for a few minutes'. Three hours later I wake up. I'm making a bit of a meal with all this medical stuff because it's still new to me and there's always that frisson of tension about whether they'll find something else wrong with me every time I go to see a doctor, as happened on virtually every trip to a doctor in June and July. I'll no doubt get used to it.

I have more medical stuff this week, culminating in a trip to the diabetic clinic on Friday to have the back of my eyes photographed to check for nerve damage. How thrilling. I've waited for this appointment since June and my sight has steadily worsened - I really need new glasses. Which I knew I needed anyway.

Om mane padme hum.