Scale at office weighs me in at 6 pounds more than my scale at home.
Confirmation of diabetes. Blood sugars above 250. (Duh, I knew that.) Glucophage 500Mg 1xday
Request for further (many) tests.
Direction to attend diabetic information courses. Eeehhhhmaybe.
Confirmation of venous insufficiency. "Wear support hose" Feh.
Identification of skin problem but not cause. "Use this skin cream."
Identification of fungal infection, for which cure is oral meds. "I don't bother with them myself." Forgets to prescribe even though I tell him "I DO want to bother, thank you very much."
Suspicion that the fungus has gotten control of his brain.
Various poking, prodding, turn head and cough, yeah there's a ductal cyst there on Mr. Right, no indication of whether this is a problem or not. Schedules test for PSA.
Checks prostate. Doctor is a coldly clinical man with an abrupt style. Yowch!
Prostate is amazingly good for someone 51 years old. Not swollen at all.
"Gee thanks, I try."
Recognition of birthday: "Here's a card for a colonoscopy clinic."
At end, pile of diabetic education material, referrals, prescription, and schedule return visit in 6 weeks.
And when I got home, the nice ladies at the office had left balloons on my door, attached to a bag of snickers mini candy bars.