about once a year, my doctor pulls a power play and refuses to renew my prescriptions until i come in and let her poke and prod at me in something she calls a "physical". now luckily, i'm not yet in my 40's, so there is no backdoor breaking & entering to be had, but i still don't like to spend 30 minutes and $20 for her to give me the once over.
this most recent physical took place three days after i had been off of work for a week. by my best estimation, i imbibed various vodka concoctions for ten straight evenings. add to this the motrin that i had been popping like candy (tmj-related jaw pain) and the cold medicine that i took for three days prior to the physical, and my liver was slightly less toxic than river phoenix's after a fun night at the viper room. most nights, conversations with my liver went like this:
ME: down the hatch.
LIVER: oh shit (glug, glug, glug). fire up the engine boys, this fucker is putting us to work again.
ME: sure, i'll have another.
LIVER: AHHHHH! fuck, stop it. that hurts! (gurgle, gurgle)
ME: last one to cap off the night.
LIVER: you've got to be fucking kidding me. (passes out from exhaustion)
needless to say, when the results of my blood draw came back a week later, my liver enzymes were "abnormal". they said "abnormal", but what i heard was "fucked up with cirrhosis or cancer". they wanted me to come back to get tested for hepatitis and also take an ultrasound to check for a fatty liver. i was extremely offended at the thought of a fatty liver, as i work out compulsively and assumed that my liver worked out along with me. turns out that's not what they meant, but anyway. the nurse went on to scare the bejeezus out of me by saying things like "no more drinking", and "drastic lifestyle change". again, my medical to real person translator heard, "no more fun. ever."
so i told them i'd call them back to schedule the appointments and then did some quick thinking. i remembered all the drinking and medication in the week prior and decided that i wanted to fail a second test before committing to an ultrasound. i've been to the radiology department (twice) this year and i know that it costs $100 and takes like five hours.
i called back and said i'd come in for the hepatitis blood draw, but that i'd like them to check liver function again before i scheduled an ultrasound. they said that would be fine and we set the appointment for two weeks.
during those two weeks, i drank only one night (a saturday where we entertained guests) and took only aspirin. my liver and i made up. we hugged it out and agreed to move forward in a more responsible manner. i would respect his feelings while exercising moderation and he in turn would remove toxins from my blood as needed.
so i was on good behavior these last few days just in case an ultrasound was deemed necessary. i got the call today.
liver functioning normal. no hepatitis.
fuck yeah. my liver doesn't know it yet, but i'm probably going to stab him in the back and drown out his cries with delicious vodka.
