Went to the doctor for my yearly physical. The nurse starts with certain basics.
'How much do you weigh?' she asks. '135,' I say.
The nurse puts me on the scale. It turns out my weight is 180.
The nurse asks, 'Your height?' '5 foot 4,' I say.
The nurse checks and sees that I only measure 5'2'.
She then takes my blood pressure and tells me it is very high.
'Of course it's high!' I scream. 'When I came in here I was tall and slender! Now I'm short and fat!'
She put me on Prozac. What a bitch.
Monday, September 22, 2008
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
4 comments:
That sounds like my last Dr. appointment.
LOL! I'm glad to hear you keep your sense of humour when under duress.
Oh, Lordy! That gave me a good giggle.
Strangely, Aunt Doodie insists at least a couple of times a year that I'm not 4'11", but rather 5". This, of course, is insane and impossible. I don't know why she keeps thinking I'm going to grow.
Oh, dear...
(I hate being weighed in the doctor's office. It's so humiliating.)
Post a Comment