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To catch up on the series, read Love, sex, drama and self-discovery: The escapades of Violet Online.
‘How old are you?’ my Doctor asked, and for a second I thought he was asking me out on a date.
I smiled seductively, about to answer - ‘Too old for you’ - when I realized he was deathly serious. I’d booked myself in for a general check up, feeling a little low.
My Doc was not messing around.
How much do you drink?
What medication are you on?
Do you exercise?
Are you a smoker?
I do all that. I drink whisky. I take the odd Valium. Sleeping tablets. I enjoy an occasional cigarette.
And I do exercise, but mostly it involves lying in my bed trying different Kama Sutra positions.
‘Tell me about your diet’ he asked, and I found myself stammering and stuttering about Danish pastries and doughnuts.
He raised an eyebrow, and moved on to my fitness plan. My doc was not talking about Afternoon Delight, The Sensual Spoon or The Eagle, although I do suggest you Google these, dear Reader, they’re great for your abs and back!
He was talking about eating fruit and vegetables, and doing the kind of aerobic exercise where you break out into a sweat, a fever from physical exertion.
I don’t do any of that.
My heart was racing, and my chest felt tight. I suddenly knew I was dying.
He took my blood pressure and checked my sugar, thyroid and cholesterol. When I had to stick my legs out for a reflex check, I didn’t particularly care that I hadn’t waxed.
And when he moved on to an ECG (oh my GOD, an ECG, I was definitely dying), I forgot, just momentarily, that I was wearing an old, faded bra.
By the time he moved on to a blood count, I knew I had leukemia.
I sat at home, waiting for the results. It seemed like a sensible thing to go on to symptomsmd.com and try take control of my illnesses.
Google the different Kama Sutra positions guys. But take my advice - do not ever Google medical symptoms. Ever!
Not only did I have leukemia, but I also had lung cancer, a brain tumor and the dreaded Ebola.
I cleared out my liquor cabinet and threw all the wine down the sink. My fridge was emptied of carbs and replaced with proteins. I cancelled all dates with my dates, but booked Pilates and Yoga and Dancing and Kick Boxing.
I resolved to live well, for however many weeks / months I had left.
My tests, by the way, were all clear.
I seemed to have a case of stress. Panic. Anxiety.
Not surprising hey. We live in a world of madness; it gets to all of us. Even me.
So I’ve gone rogue. I’m practicing being mindful. I’m eating healthily. No more cappuccinos for me, and goodbye whisky. You’ll find me at Yoga every morning where I’m trying to focus on my spiritual development.
I’ve had a real wake up call. And I’m very glad I have.
But I’ve kept my Valium. And I’m always wearing a nice bra. And waxing my legs.
Just in case.
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Follow Women24 on Twitter and like us on Facebook.
‘How old are you?’ my Doctor asked, and for a second I thought he was asking me out on a date.
I smiled seductively, about to answer - ‘Too old for you’ - when I realized he was deathly serious. I’d booked myself in for a general check up, feeling a little low.
My Doc was not messing around.
How much do you drink?
What medication are you on?
Do you exercise?
Are you a smoker?
I do all that. I drink whisky. I take the odd Valium. Sleeping tablets. I enjoy an occasional cigarette.
And I do exercise, but mostly it involves lying in my bed trying different Kama Sutra positions.
‘Tell me about your diet’ he asked, and I found myself stammering and stuttering about Danish pastries and doughnuts.
He raised an eyebrow, and moved on to my fitness plan. My doc was not talking about Afternoon Delight, The Sensual Spoon or The Eagle, although I do suggest you Google these, dear Reader, they’re great for your abs and back!
He was talking about eating fruit and vegetables, and doing the kind of aerobic exercise where you break out into a sweat, a fever from physical exertion.
I don’t do any of that.
My heart was racing, and my chest felt tight. I suddenly knew I was dying.
He took my blood pressure and checked my sugar, thyroid and cholesterol. When I had to stick my legs out for a reflex check, I didn’t particularly care that I hadn’t waxed.
And when he moved on to an ECG (oh my GOD, an ECG, I was definitely dying), I forgot, just momentarily, that I was wearing an old, faded bra.
By the time he moved on to a blood count, I knew I had leukemia.
I sat at home, waiting for the results. It seemed like a sensible thing to go on to symptomsmd.com and try take control of my illnesses.
Google the different Kama Sutra positions guys. But take my advice - do not ever Google medical symptoms. Ever!
Not only did I have leukemia, but I also had lung cancer, a brain tumor and the dreaded Ebola.
I cleared out my liquor cabinet and threw all the wine down the sink. My fridge was emptied of carbs and replaced with proteins. I cancelled all dates with my dates, but booked Pilates and Yoga and Dancing and Kick Boxing.
I resolved to live well, for however many weeks / months I had left.
My tests, by the way, were all clear.
I seemed to have a case of stress. Panic. Anxiety.
Not surprising hey. We live in a world of madness; it gets to all of us. Even me.
So I’ve gone rogue. I’m practicing being mindful. I’m eating healthily. No more cappuccinos for me, and goodbye whisky. You’ll find me at Yoga every morning where I’m trying to focus on my spiritual development.
I’ve had a real wake up call. And I’m very glad I have.
But I’ve kept my Valium. And I’m always wearing a nice bra. And waxing my legs.
Just in case.
Follow Violet on Twitter.
Follow Women24 on Twitter and like us on Facebook.
