Who Cares About Hearing When Your Weight Is Down?

My ears are ringing. I feel like a dog being called home by one of those dog whistles. I find myself randomly bounding down the road with a look of curiosity and absolutely no direction.

So, I went to my doctor to see if there’s a pill for that. He told me that I probably have had some slight hearing loss. I said, “What?” He didn’t find that amusing.

Apparently I attended one Prince concert too many in my youth. Still worth it, though.

The good news is that my weight was down and I graduated to another category on that insurance chart. Many thanks to hot yoga for that change. Woohoo!

Next, my height. I usually look like Snooki at my physicals because I create a hair-pouf to get that extra 1/2 inch, but I forgot to do that yesterday. Nurse Ratchet measured my height, pouf-less, and took me down an inch, which threw me back into the original weight category.

I went home and remeasured, and got back to my original height of 5’3″. Now I have to call the doctor’s office and petition to get them to officially change the chart.

If they refuse, I might pull an “Occupy My Doctor’s Office” and pitch a tent until they do. I will sing bad songs from the sixties and cook my dinner on their sidewalk with my tiny Coleman stove.

Because when you’re dealing with weight charts, one-inch is golden.

As far as my hearing goes, I’m growing fond of the slight whistle in my ears. I pretend it’s a seashell pressed to my head, whispering secrets of the sea.

Plus, I can act like I don’t hear people when they raise a topic I want to avoid. I used this particular skill at the end of the doctor’s visit.

“Have you ever had a colonoscopy?”


“A colonoscopy.”


“A colonoscopy. Have you scheduled one?”

“A copy of what? Just write it down and I’ll review it later.”

See. You gain a little something with every loss. You just have to be creative.