My annual doctor appointments are clustered in the fall. It just happens to work out that way. But two appointments the day after Labor Day? What was I thinking?
8:30 a.m: to my ophthalmologist, a tiny powerhouse of a woman. Since my cataract surgery several years ago, she checks my eyes annually. The good news is all is well; the less good news in that I have aging spots on my retina that we have to watch. She also recommended using eye drops for my dry eyes and urged me to see my optometrist to be sure my glasses are just right.
1:30 p.m: to meet my new internist for an annual checkup. She grilled me on all my habits (mostly good) and pronounced me healthy. However, I’ve lost two inches of height and she is worried about my bone strength negatively affecting my spine. So I have to see an endocrinologist who may prescribe a dreaded-by-me osteoporosis drug.
I’m lucky to have good and caring doctors in this era of corporate healthcare. But how did two appointments turn into four? Maybe it’s because I'm 70-something.