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| Thursday, 8 August 2002 |
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A poke in time..! The problem about being married to a doctor is that you don't know how you are going to be greeted the next morning: with a hug or a syringe! Today it was the syringe for me. "I'm okay!" I shouted in protest. "What's the need to draw blood so early in the morning? Sadist!" "Listen Bob," she said in that doctor voice of hers with syringe held threateningly in strike mode, "Stop being an ostrich, there's nothing wrong in finding out, is there?" I meekly held out my hand and turned away in horror at my precious blood being sucked away. A friend of mine came to visit me the other day and we had a lovely evening as he regaled us with stories and jokes. "Life," he said, "is meant to be lived king size." "Yes," I said. "You know something Bob," he said moving closer to me. "I suspect I've got diabetes, but I'm not going to have any check up and have a doctor spoil the rest of my life." He winked at me and like a fellow conspirator I winked back guiltily at him. I wish I had told him that it makes sense to do a test, that prevention of the farther complications of diabetes was better than indulging his sweet tooth. I know he reads this column and I hope he goes right away and gets his blood test done. There are many like him. Friends of mine who feel a sense of uneasiness once in a way and brush it off as indigestion, others who get up in the morning, feeling giddy, know that they are definitely not pregnant, men haven't started becoming pregnant as yet have they, and still refuse to see the doctor, even though their company pays for all their medical bills. We still believe in the ostrich policy that what we can't see is not there, that what we don't know doesn't exist. I know you guys are not as lucky as me. That syringe and blood sample bottles don't greet you when you get up, but a little time off could get your engine tuned up and fit for another hundred thousand kilometres..! We hear the rattle in the car and to the mechanic we head. The washing machine makes weird noises and in comes the repair man. Our tapes sound muffled and there we are with cotton and spirit cleaning the tape recorder head. But when our own bodies give out warning signals, we bury our heads in the ground and pretend we heard nothing..! Sure, I know a lot of you are going to hate me for frightening you, first thing in the morning. "Bob," you say, "give us a break, there are enough bad things happening in the world without you piling on." I know, but I wouldn't want more bad things piling on your family because you decided to ignore warning signals. You start with sticking your head in the ground and end with the rest of you being lowered six feet into the same ground to join your obstinate head..! I've got to end folks, she's there behind me with a new set of needles for my second test. I forgot to tell you, I get a hug after the poke. Worth it huh..?
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