Good times and bum times, I've seen them all...

(* "I'm Still Here", from Follies, Stephen Sondheim)

I saw my doctor this morning to renew my prescriptions. No problems for me to report to him but it is that time of year for him to organise a series of annual tests to determine my overall state of health.

He - or at least his heavily pregnant assistant - checked my blood pressure, weight, body fat and also put me through an ECG. Blood pressure was excellent and Doctor expresses he is 'very happy' about that. Bully for him; it's my blood pressure. Weight a little bit up. Not so happy now, he knows how hard it is to lose weight as you (that is, me) get older and, heck, he was once over 100 kilos. Again, bully for him, I have never reached 100 kilos. I must eat smaller portions he informs me in a serious tone and cut down on pasta, rice and noodles. These, of course, all are favourites of mine.

ECG shows my heart is working well. So there!, to those former lovers who thought me heartless.

Then on to the blood tests. He issues me a referral for sufficient blood tests to meet the needs of a battalion of men. Discreetly he ponders should he include tests for my sexual health? Sheepishly I admit an absence of sexual activity since my previous testing to warrant an update in that area. Embarrasingly, my admission appears to be no surprise to him.

Oh well, I suppose he is familiar with the senior variety of the gay species.

And, I'm still here.