I had my first physical in over 30 years about three years ago.
I think being hospitalized three times in my life created a phobia of doctors.
I also believe that immaturity, laziness, and a carefree attitude contributed to the neglect of my health.
But all of that changed when I witnessed my father's health begin to decline.
His death, the birth of my grandson, and, I guess, the maturity that comes with getting older and wiser made me realize that I needed to take my health more seriously.
I remember being nervous during and after my first physical. Waiting for the results of my blood work and urine tests drove me crazy for a few days.
I wouldn't have been surprised if I had received a phone call from my doctor telling me that I needed to be rushed to the hospital.
That's how paranoid I was!
When I finally received the results of my physical, I wasn't surprised, but truthfully, I expected the results to be much worse.
The results showed that I had high blood pressure and high cholesterol, a fatty liver, and elevated PSA levels.
I was also prediabetic and, based on my weight at the time, was considered obese.
I knew I was fat. Mirrors don't lie!
I love joking around, so I remember what I said when the doctor told me I had high blood pressure.
"I'm married. What married man doesn't have high blood pressure?"
Our main concern, however, was my elevated PSA level, which required further investigation.
I'll save that part of the story for another blog.
Ever since that first physical, I've been doing everything in my power to control my high blood pressure, lower my cholesterol, improve my fatty liver, and lose weight.
Although I must admit that losing weight has been a struggle, I'm proud to say that my blood pressure is now under control.
It also turns out that my prostate is three times the size it should be.
Again, I'll share that experience in my next blog.
I'm proud of myself because it seems I've finally overcome my phobia of doctors.
I now visit the doctor about every three months.
I've followed my doctors' instructions and taken the medications they've prescribed.
But I must admit that I'm still struggling with weight loss.
It's hard for me to stay consistent with my diet.
My willpower fails me every once in a while.
I also can't seem to stop adding salt and other seasonings to some of the foods I enjoy.
Even though I know I should be avoiding them because of my high blood pressure.
That's why, during my last visit, when my doctor asked if I was avoiding adding salt to my food, I answered honestly.
"No, I have not."
He stared at me, astonished.
"Why not?" he asked.
"Because I'd rather die happy than live miserably."
Maybe I haven't matured as much as I think.
