REWARD YOURSELF WITH A COOKIE

The lipid levels are okay, there is no protein in the urine, and Vitamin D is excellent! And if that isn't the most enchantingly magical opening for an essay, I don't know what is! This is part of what we discussed in the follow-up visit to my full physical when I was at my doctor's appointment in Chinese Hospital. Oh, and my bloodpressure is excellent. We also did the pulse oximeter thing before she came in. Judging by the fact that the nurse didn't scream and run out of there, I am NOT a zombie.

A few years ago it was cold weather, and because of Raynaud's phenomenon, the pulse oximeter didn't register bupkes. Whereupon I gently explained what was going on to the administering person. And by the way: the mobile living dead would also show oxygen levels in their digits, unless those had fallen off already, because mobility means energy usage. Hence oxygen. With the deceased demographic, things are, necessarily, different.

I'm fairly certain they don't use pulse oximeters on demised persons.
I'll have to ask the mortician I know about that.
Or a forensic pathologist.

One very small seed of a kidney stone, and very minor fibrosis in the lungs.

Which is where this lovely schematic of a lotus root cross-section comes into play. Lotus root is exceedingly good cooked with fatty pork, providing a warmish flavour and a very appealing textural element. Fibrosis won't be a significant problem until it actually starts interfering with breathing and absorbing enough oxygen etcetera etcetera to prevent me venting spleen occasionally as is my wont.

In any case, my next appointment is in several months (continuing to ascertain that I haven't come close to cessation of bodily functions, non-existence, and zombification). I'm fine.

I also picked up refills of the Atorvastatin and Losartan HCTZ while I was there.
That may be the first time a patient packed a pipe while at the pharmacy.
Lit up shortly after leaving and strolled down the street.

The bookstore that the Taiwanese lady ran is gone. She was old and in bad shape the last time I saw her. The herbalist where I purchased salvia miltiorrhiza pills (丹參片 'daan chaam pin') before I had medical insurance is still there. And there's yet another boba place further down. Work is being done in the space where the Shanghai restaurant used to be, it's going to be a Xi-Jiang (西江) bistro soon. The West River (西江) extends through Yunnan to Canton. They're promising that Szechuan taste food will also be available.


While on the bus back across the hill, a Toishanese speaker sat nearby and started hollering on her phone. Probably remembering the volume she needed on the vast prairies of home, when huge herds of bufallo thundered past and made communication hard because of their noise. I tried listening in (hard not to), but her dialect was so deep and down home that she was nearly unintelligible despite shouting. She probably did not have anything interesting to say, but whatever it was the entire bus heard it. Including the driver.
Who gently expressed dismay.


Sometimes I also have it on speaker and shout. When I'm at home. And there is a Spam artist calling me. Such as "Steve", from something something Solutions. Who, being very Indian, does not understand me when I answer in Cantonese (喂，你係邊個？'Waaaei!
Nei hai bin go?'). Which is very sad. I hung up on him.
Honestly, I wouldn't expect him to answer.


Post Scriptum: The framed picture on the wall in the room at the hospital where I saw my doctor is still crooked. I tried straightening it before she came in, to no avail.



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