Annual checkup

I finished the book Londonstani and, all the cursing and swearing aside, loved it. There are a few wicked plot twists--the best one at the very end of the book--which made the pain of going through the “rudeboy” British-Pakistani slang well rewarded. Without giving out the plot, it's a fine satire of the Pakistani immigrants in London. The characters are confused between the freedom of choice and following the tradition, which ends up in some bizarre and funny situations.

Maggie and I have the same family doctor: she's a female. And an Asian. It mattered to Maggie to have a female doctor, and I couldn't care less. Besides, it seemed convenient to have the same doctor who knows us both and knows the history of our aches, so she can compare how much pain Maggie and I inflict on each other. That's how our she-doctor ended having me as probably the only white patient--we never saw another Caucasian person in the waiting room.

Today we had our annual check-up. When she saw me, the doc was alarmed by my weight loss (some 15+ lbs since the last checkup). She was visibly relieved when we told her that I'm not terminally ill, but just regularly run, exercise and eat smart. Maggie gained 4 lbs (he he). We compensate for each other. As usual, we do the check-up together so we can discuss the doc's suggestions for improving and maintaining our good health. We were offered two new vaccines, blood work and a few other tests to consider. Then she checked Maggie's breasts for lumps or anything suspicious. All clear there. A little surprising how efficiently and fast the doc moved over those areas: squeeze here, nudge there and all done. An awkward moment happened when I was offered a palpating checkup of testicles for testicular cancer signs. It has been an ongoing joke between me and Maggie ever since we left the doc. Amazing how many things in daily life can be associated with testicles. We laughed so much, people must have thought we were nuts! (Nuts--see what I mean?)