Wednesday, May 11, 2016


I tried walking in my new walking/running shoes this evening; it got a bit painful after a while, but the pain never moved beyond annoying to debilitating. My pinky toes were complaining during the last third of the walk, and the front of my right ankle was as well. My pedometer puts me at 17,478 steps and 7.58 miles, which means 8.717 miles in reality.

During my followup appointment, the torture doc (I really should nickname him Endo, after the Asian guy who shock-tortures Mel Gibson's character in 1986's "Lethal Weapon") decided I was well enough not to need the asthmatic's inhaler; he merely prescribed more meds and said he wanted to see me this coming Saturday, presumably for a final followup. This Saturday is actually the Buddha's birthday—a national holiday—and the doc had probably forgotten that fact when he scheduled my appointment. So I went back to the doctor's office today and tried to reschedule for Monday next week. The front-desk ladies said they could pencil me in for this Friday because, were I to wait until Monday, I'd be meds-free for a day or two, which apparently isn't desirable. So: Friday it is. My final date with Endo, I hope.


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