Taking care of my Master's property. Meaning me.

We're on a diet.
We're all on a diet.
Including the cats.
If only I could find a kitty health club for them!

I get blood tests twice a year. I'm on all sorts of medication, so need blood tests twice a year to be sure my kidney isn't crapping out. Turns out I have the kidneys of a horse, or so one doctor said, but you still have to check. And then there's all that other stuff. Like my thyroid level due to the little bit of lithium I take, and the high cholesterol I inherited from my mom, and the tendency to diabetes I got from my dad.

I got the worst they each had to offer.
Though I did get my mom's red hair.
And her amazing nipples.
She still has amazing nipples at age 90.

She would thoroughly plotz if she knew what my Master likes to do with that hair and those nipples I inherited from her. Hell, can you imagine her reaction if she knew I had a Master? A dangerously sadistic Master who is my only protection against his own urges?

Yum.
I admit that I'm enjoying the idea...

Blood tests.
Back to the blood tests.

I had the full report sent directly to me as well as to my stable of doctors. There were some things that concerned me and then my master, so I trotted off to my family doctor who happens to be, conveniently, a geriatrician as well, having already discussed the report by e-mail with my brilliant psychopharmacologist.

(FYI - geriatricians are trained have a particularly holistic approach to medicine, and make less money because they spend more time with their patients.)

The things that seemed like new problems aren't really and, while the numbers were high, they're better than last year. As I suspected, my thyroid numbers were high which means my thyroid is underperforming which, to my relief, explains why I've been feeling so sluggish and is easily corrected.

My cholesterol levels are surprisingly good.
Hooray!
Happy pet.

But.
The diabetes thing...
Having looked a little better last fall,
it looks a little worse now,
and if I don't get it under control
it's medication for me.
Not to mention that diabetes is a BAD thing to have.

So it's serious diet time.

BUT!!
Happy day!
My Master is taking a interest.
I am his property
and he expects his property to be kept in good working order.

I've really been wishing he would take control of my diet.
Because clearly I can't do it for myself.

It's not like he's going to monitor what I do every day. But he expects me to make a plan, and to keep to it. I am to have a healthy diet plan, and I'm to exercise, and I'm to lose weight, and I'm to get my blood sugar levels down.

I'm to exercise.
Including some very specific exercises.
Exercises meant to accentuate the ravine running down my back.
The trough from which he can drink champagne
in a little over 3 weeks
when we once again
spend the night
in a room with white linens.

As for my tubby tabby cats,
I'm stuck dealing with them myself.