The older we get, the harder it is for me to get Olof to medical appointments.
Olof maintains this is because at our age, there’s just no good news to be had. Do they ever say, “Wow, you look so much younger!” he queries? Or, “You really should be drinking more Scotch?” No, he says, they just take pains to remind you that you’re one day closer to decrepitude and death.
I’ve previously written about our primary care doctor, whom we affectionately refer to as Dr. No. As in no bread, no pasta, no rice, no potatoes, no fun. Dr. No has a personal vendetta against high-glycemic carbs. It’s the potatoes that are hardest for Olof who is a serious spud man.