Dearest Rachel -
Hope this letter finds you well. I also hope that you don't mind that it's coming to you a bit later than I usually try to get them sent to you, but the events of the morning have kept me busier than usual; plus, they strike me as being more worth telling you about than what few thoughts I was able to wake up to.
To tell you the truth, I didn't wake up with much in my head at all (and if you feel like making jokes along those lines, feel free, I guess), apart from that I might be starting to feel the effects of caffeine more than I did in my college days (more's the pity for my studying abilities). I'd had several iced teas with lunch after walking with Lars yesterday, and given the fitful nature of my attempts at sleep last night, they may have prevented me from getting as much rest as I really needed.
The silver lining, if you can call it that, is that I got up with plenty of time to get to the gym and get washed up before I planned to head out and deal with a few health matters – which will make up the bulk of this particular missive. And because I hadn't eaten anything since yesterday's lunch, I managed to wake up for the first time with a weight below two hundred twenty.
And after getting back from the gym, I managed to register this new low, which isn't my usual commemoration of breaking a zero or five milestone, but since the last two weeks have been spend regularly getting down to – but never through – two hundred seventeen, this is something of a big deal for me. Granted, I've still got thirty-five pounds to go before I've down to the weight I was when I first met you (and another fifteen after that before I reach my high school weight, at which point, I'll finally feel like I won't need to lose any more), but it's continued progress.
The workout and the weigh-in ties in to the rest of the story – actually, so does the fact that I'd met and walked with Lars yesterday – because it's been over a year since I've bothered to get a physical, and Lars has been pushing me (much gentler than Mohinder ever did, and with better motives, in my opinion) to get my bloodwork done and my vitals tested. He believes that, since I've lost over thirty pounds since my last checkup, those numbers should be looking much better than they were – and the only way to verify that is to have me go in, and have my fluids drawn and tested in a hospital lab. And being a doctor, he can give me a referral with my having to deal with my general practitioner, who, last time I saw him, was still singing the praises of the "brilliant" Anthony Fauci. Look, I don't deny the man's genius, but I'm not convinced that it was necessarily used for good.
Be that as it may, I've had Lars' referral in hand for the better part of two weeks. It's not been particularly convenient for me to go to the hospital for this procedure; normally of a morning, I get up, work out (assuming I can get sufficiently motivated), wash up, have breakfast, and head out to the 'office' (eventually). There's no particularly good place to squeeze in a hospital visit in that routine, especially given that I'm not entirely sure how long it may take.
But yesterday, as I got home from our walk and lunch together, I got a text from my dentist, reminding me of an appointment I'd make six months or so ago. Suddenly, there wasn't a pressing hurry to head over to the 'office' this morning – although I did check in with Mom to see if she'd be interested if I were to pick up an early lunch from a local Greek place after I'd had my teeth cleaned, so I'd be heading there eventually – giving me what I assumed would be ample time to drop over to the hospital to satisfy Lars' (and mine, come to that; it would be nice to confirm whether the mere fact that I've pared myself down like this automatically means that my other vital statistics are backing away from the danger zones) curiosity.
And, much to my surprise, it didn't take nearly as long as I feared it might. It may have been helped by the fact that I was showing up at eight in the morning, but it was a walk-in, as opposed to a scheduled appointment; I really did expect to be there waiting for a while. And while I did find myself cooling my heels here and there, none of those waiting periods were all that long, and I was in and out in about half an hour. I even might have had time to get breakfast for myself, if I didn't think it might interfere with having reasonably clean teeth for the dentist to deal with (Apropos of absolutely nothing, it's interesting to note that the Bible will occasionally refer to a period of famine as a time in which people have "cleanness of teeth"; as weird of an expression as it is, it makes sense in a day and age in which dentistry wasn't much of a thing).
Not that it really mattered; the order was pretty much what it normally is at the dentist's. I don't enjoy the sonic cleaner, especially when he works on the molars, and the sound is intense from the inside, but I suppose it's more efficient (it's certainly quicker and less painful) than the old-fashioned scraping method. And I've never gotten used to breathing through my nose while my mouth is open; there are moments when it feels like being waterboarded (not that I really know what that's like, so perhaps I ought not to make such a comparison). But at least I've gotten a clean bill of health from him, and I don't have to come back until early next year. Now, I have to persuade Daniel to get his dealt with…
Unlike some times, when the flavor in the tooth polish is such that it puts one off one's appetite, I was hungry enough that it didn't faze me today. So, after getting an extra-large helping of gyro for myself (and a normal-sized one for Mom), I made it to the 'office' straight away, but not before getting the results of my bloodwork back from Lars. Since the real analysis comes from comparing previous data to the current information, I had to assemble whatever I had from previous visits, and hope he can make sense out of them. At this point, it looks like the only real concern might be in my cholesterol count, where the low-density lipoproteins are at their highest point in the last eight years (although it's been this high before). On the other hand, my high-density lipoproteins (the "good" cholesterol) are also far and away higher than they've been, so maybe that offsets the other. I'll have to wait and see.
I suppose it's one of the nicer things about the perfection of heaven that these issues are no longer of any concern; our glorified bodies, I expect, will have no problems like this to deal with. I won't go so far as to say I can't wait for the day, but it will be nice to be in that state, that's for sure. Until then, however, I hope you can still keep an eye on me, honey, and wish me luck. I'm probably going to need it.
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