Scale
By Shel SilversteinIf I could only see the scale,
I'm sure that it would state
That I've lost ounces...maybe pounds
Or even tons of weight.
"You'd better eat some pancakes --
You're skinny as a rail."
I'm sure that's what the scale would say...
If I could see the scale.
This is a great poem. Why? Because it rings so true for so many. Sad to say, I am one of the many. Okay, so I can, technically, see the scale. It's just hard to see past that nasty roll there. Sigh. When I do see the number, it isn't a pleasant experience, thank you very much.
I am falling apart. I am 32-years-old, and I am falling apart. For the past week or so I have been peeing my pants, not when I laugh or sneeze or cough like a normal aging woman. Just peeing my pants. Gotta go, gotta go, gotta go right now... And, when I do go? That's it? Seriously? I was doing the dance for that little dribble? I really doubt I have a UTI. I have had one before, and this doesn't feel like that.
What does my doctor husband say when I lament my latest ailment? Can you guess? You just know he is concerned for me. Well, here is a small sampling of the helpful medical advice I have gotten from the doctor:
"Is it broken? No? Sorry, can't help you."
"You should see your doctor."
"It's only a toe."
It's only a toe? Holy crap. How bout I put a hammer to one of your toes and see if you sing the same tune? It's only a toe...sheesh. How about a little compassion? His bedside manner at home kinda sucks sometimes. I think I will literally have to have a femur poking out of my mid-thigh before any of my ailments so much as register on his doctor-meter.
So, I am off to the doctor tomorrow. Hopefully she can tell me how I can soon be singing, "and I don't have to go right now."
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