It’s morning and I am sitting in the doctor’s waiting room. The doctor’s office is located in an area hospital. It’s not posh or fancy in any way. This comforts me for some reason. There are people of color here, working people – quite unlike the last time I was in an Ortho clinic (four years ago) which was located downtown off fancy Michigan Avenue with copies of the Wall Street Journal, Crain’s Business and Chicago Social laying about. The next thing I notice is how sick I am not.

There are two cancer patients sitting here. I am the queen of eavesdropping so I am able to hear them discuss their condition with their companions. There is an elderly Latino woman in a wheelchair who starts to choke and cough. Her body is wracked with convulsive hacking. Her companion covers her with a small blanket. She glances around embarrassed. It sounds so awful. Her friend rubs her neck and shoulders to give her comfort.

“Poor thing!”

Another plus sized Black woman is in a wheelchair. She is accompanied by her best friend who is reading Bible verses aloud to her. My mind goes quickly to my experience on the street – unable to walk. I think to myself: “There but for the Grace of God go I.”

A man dressed in a mechanic’s uniform runs in and says that he has an appointment scheduled for March 7th, but he is a cancer patient and his shoulder pain is too unbearable to wait that long. Is there anything sooner?

I realize that my knee pain is not such a big deal after all. The knee, the knee pain, being homebound – it has consumed my every thought. It has changed my life, but I know in the scheme of things that I have been very lucky. I have had no real health issues until now. But who knows what the future holds? My life, my health seems very precarious now. I could wake up tomorrow and find another more insidious pain or condition has taken over my body.

I look down at my body. Will my years of intermittent unrestrained eating, smoking and low physical activity finally catch up to me? I think of my dear friend Flo and how she was snatched away so suddenly while out running an errand. And Flo was not obese.

I will be 50 years old on my next birthday. I am closer to the end of life than the beginning. The time to live is now. There is no more putting off goals and dreams. It’s now or never. I have got to lose some weight. This weight could literally kill me. I shake myself out of these morbid thoughts.

First things first: I got to see the doctor about this knee.

Tags: diet & exercise, doctor's office visit, health and aging, healthy living, knee pain, Lynne Jordan, lynne jordan & the shivers, lynne jordan and the shivers, middle age, orthopedics, weight control, weight issues, weight loss
Filed under: In the Life of a Diva