Yesterday, while I was waiting for the doctor, the nurse took me back to a small room to measure my weight and take my blood pressure. While I sat there, a woman in her fifties was ushered in and told to step on the scale. Before she stepped up, she asked, "Can I take off my shoes?" At first, I thought this sounded like a reasonable request. I mean, at home who really measures their weight with shoes on? Or clothes? Or without running a few miles before? You? No? Me either.
Anyway, after the nurse allowed her to take her shoes off, she then hesitated again, and said, "You should know that I just drank a rather large bottle of juice." This is when the nurse and I made eye contact and acknowledged we had a crazy on our hands. After the nurse mumbled, "We'll take the juice into account," the woman stepped onto the scale and a whopping 120 came up. Yep, 120. The woman then looked down and announced, "This morning I was 116.8. I'm telling you that juice was really big." The nurse then looked at me and then said, "Honey, let's go with 118. We'll knock off 2 lbs. for the juice."
Here were my thoughts during this situation. 1. I wish I had said something like, "Oh my gosh. 120? What did you drink four gallons of juice?!" (You know, just to play on her fears.) OR I wish I had mouthed "114.7,"* while pointing to myself. (Just to watch her crumble) 2. I wonder if she thought that her recorded weight was going to be printed in the doctor's monthly newsletter?
*Not actual weight.