A few years ago I visited my primary care physician for an annual check-up. She gave me a good going-over, studied my blood and urinalysis test results without commenting, and, as I sat there on the exam table, asked me some general questions along the lines of “How do you feel?”
I answered them easily. With the exception of my slowly increasing rheumatoid disease symptoms, I was feeling fine. I hadn’t had a cold in ages, I always got a flu shot, and I’d stopped smoking years before. This, I thought, was going well. She’d release me with a bill of good health any minute and I’d be on my way.
Not so fast. “Do you exercise?” she asked, fixing me with her steely, blue-eyed gaze.