But at Least my Heart won't Explode

I have to go in and get a physical this week. Basically our conversation will go something like..."Doctor, I'd like to start exercising again. Can you please guarantee my poor overworked heart would explode in pure terror since apparently I have exactly no idea of what moderation is..."

To which she'll respond "blah, blah, everything looks fine except for the fact you're morbidly obese and say why don't you do something about that."

To which I'll respond, "Gee since you mention it...is there anything at all you can do Ms. Medical Community about say helping me on my path to good health? Because I swear to the High Lord of all things holy and great shoes, if I work out every single day for an hour a day and eat nothing but veggies and fruit with a little lean white meat mixed in and I only lose ten pounds in that entire six months...I'm gonna cut a...well you get the picture."

To which she'll fire back, "No."

and a little...

"But hey, I can give you these pills which will cause you to spill hot Chile oil in the event you choose to get the full-fat latte rather than the non-fat (even though we all know fat has very little to do with weight gain) because nothing makes us doctors giggle more than a little anal leakage."

To which I'll sit with paper square clutched to my chest and answer, "Thank you Doctor..." and think..."For nothing."