The Renovation of Jules

Friday, August 12

Fat on the Inside

Yes, I am fat inside and out people. Not a self-loathing judgement, just a fair comment.

I had a terrible day yesterday. Started great with a complete buzz happening with the whole reaching my first goal etc etc. Then I received a phone call that sent me into a spin. It was the practise nurse ringing on behalf of my doctor.

Hi Julie, R.. here from Ilam Medical, Dr C.... would like you to come in
today please to discuss the findings of your liver scan.

Ummm,
it must be bad if he wants me to come in??

He just asked that you
please come in, would 2.10pm be okay?

Yeah, sure

Then the crying started. Did I say crying? I meant hideous garbled heaving bawling!! I rang my sister and I rang my Dad and I just cried and they tried to say "it won't be anything bad, you're just over reacting". But I couldn't think positive.

Let's have a wee perspective put on this situation:

I have an extremely good Doctor-Patient relationship. My Dr is aware of my naturopathic tendancies and he always backs me up on decisions I make with regard to natural therapies. He is very constructive and always takes my concerns as real and I never feel dismissed, nor talked down to. Over the past couple of years he has helped me with a lot of ongoing medical issues and we have ALWAYS discussed things over the phone. Not once has he asked me to come in. Hence the reason I am in a spin, fearing the "sorry, you have 10mins to live" speech.

Anyho, I get to the Dr after a couple of hours of walking and talking therapy with my best bud, Kim. I sit in his exam room waiting. Heart thumping! And I mean THUMPING!! I could literally see my left side of my chest beating. I took my pulse (and this is resting people) and got 130. Holy fuck, I am going to faint. Waiting, waiting, waiting.

Finally, after 20mins of whole body beating, Dr C.... walks in.

A casual Hi. He was limping, a bit of small talk followed with reference to the new buttock exercises his PT has been putting him through. I start to relax a bit. Surely, a man who is about to give you a life ending terminal illness is not going to use "buttock exercises" as a warmup conversation??

You have a fatty liver. And an enlarged spleen. We need more Liver Function Tests and if they are still up we will send you to a liver specialist. No gallstones, kidneys fine, a bit of fluid around the gallbladder wall, no real issues.* Smile *. Now let's take your blood pressure while you are here.

Are you trying to kill me? I query. No, why?

I explain the high level of stress I have been under due to his decision to have this little chat in person rather than over the phone. He apologizes profusely.

And blood pressure: 180/80. Now that bottom number is looking extremely good for me but the top one is through the roof, which gives him a good laugh as that is the number more commonly associated with anxiety and stress levels. You think?? He recommends I up my meds to twice daily instead of once to counteract the consistently high BP.

And I had brown rice, chicken breasts and veges for dinner.

I didn't react to the crisis by eating badly or with abandon. Good on me.

So: I have a fat liver. Not only can I claim to have an overweight arse, I can add that claim to one of the most vital internal organs as well. Great.

Whole foods here we come. I ain't gonna make any statements about what I am gonna do as, inevitably, I won't follow through and then will have just another GUNNA statement to add to the list.

I have a wee plan of attack but, this time, I will just do it and write about it after it is done.

Posted by Jules :: 12:01 pm :: 8 Comments: