Girl, You Know It's True

The P-Dawg once told me that doctors know we lie to them. There is even a formula of sorts for gleaning the truth out of answers to questions such as, "How many drinks do you typically have per week?" ("one or two" = "three or four") and "Are you using birth control?" ("Yes" = "No")

Shocking.

I had my annual ladyparts checkup a few weeks ago. Just as my physician was preparing to exit after our three minute encounter, I pulled out a scroll with a bulleted list of discussion items for the two of us to review at leisure. One thing I wanted to interrogate her on was the potential for a new medication I'm taking to cause weight gain. (It has already dissed my blog and killed off my houseplants.)

Rimarama: "Just a few questions before you go! The internet told me that I could totally blimp out on this drug, even though the manufacturer's label says otherwise. Have you seen this happen with your other patients and if so, please comment."

Doctor D: "Are you getting regular exercise?"

In my head, I tallied up the number of times I'd walked out to the mailbox during the last month, and then I said, "Uh . . . yeah! Totally!"

Then, in her head, the good doctor plugged my answer into the formula and said, ""If you don't watch it, you have the potential to gain forty pounds and NEVER TAKE IT OFF AGAIN. But keep up the diet and exercise! And go get that baseline mammogram I recommended last year."

Thus I began a strict exercise regimen which includes a rigorous cardio workout nine three days per week and the contortion of my body into gravity defying Pilates poses on the days in between. I've been doing this for about a month now and I've actually gained two pounds. On the other hand, if you tried to punch me in the stomach, your fist would crumple like a tin can.

(And if you were to ask me how often I'm exercising, I'd tell you, "Every waking hour of the day, are you calling me a liar?")