tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7037030002547566426.post-92205908595314750692007-11-16T10:13:00.000-05:002007-11-16T10:32:06.848-05:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_xU7K5T3L8JE/Rz2z5JBOJWI/AAAAAAAABhE/OxGtJsmCWYc/s1600-h/steth.jpg"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_xU7K5T3L8JE/Rz2z5JBOJWI/AAAAAAAABhE/OxGtJsmCWYc/s400/steth.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5133456944527189346" /></a>Time was, I could put my body on autopilot and not worry about it. I didn't expect to have to pay close attention in my early thirties already. But the irony is that, if my computer exhibited a problem I'd be all over it, recording symptoms and the steps it took to cause the problem in the first place, what programs were running, the ambient room temperature, everything. If my ear goes numb for five minutes, however, I shrug it off, "Well, I'm sure there's a good reason for that."<br /><br />I now take notes at my doctor appointments, because I know I haven't figured out a system for remembering medical details yet. Raised liver enzymes? Good cholesterol is down? These just don't hit home with me somehow. Plus, when I get home I'm going to get grilled by my wife for all the details, and I'd better be prepared. After all, if I don't relay my medical history to her, it will be forgotten. I sure won't remember.Tylernoreply@blogger.com