Thursday, July 13, 2017

As I Paddled Up Moon River

While I have no delusions regarding my own immortality (proof perhaps that some of my bullshit not even I can believe), I am among the most physician-averse individuals I know.  I do not have a Primary Care Physician.  Candidly, I do not think I have had one since Mom sold the house on Wertsville Road and I stopped seeing Dr. Johnson on Route 206.  

I have reached the age (fifty) however where having the name of a doctor or two among one's iPhone contacts is not a terrible idea.  Being a fan of any idea that is not terrible, I do indeed have two:  an optometrist, Dr. Ippolito, and an urologist, Dr. Harmon.  Each is an excellent physician whose practice I recommend without hesitation to anyone in need of their particular specialty.  

On Tuesday morning, I had my annual check-up with Dr. Harmon.  It shall likely serve as little surprise to those who know me and have long considered me to be a real d*ck that I do, in fact, have a larger than average prostate.  No cause for concern (my PSA score dropped markedly from last year's score).  However, for those among you (you know who you are and, fret not, I do as well) who have long harbored such a thought about me, you now have medical evidence to buttress your position.

And a little chuckle to send you off and into your Thursday...


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