Hoof n' Mouth Day

This morning I have an appointment with my adorable foot doctor, who checks my feet about four times a year to make sure I don't have any diabetes damage.
Because she is so cute, going to see her is like cleaning the house before the maid comes.
I make sure my feet are smooth, the cuticles on my toenails are nicely pushed back and the nails are neatly trimmed. Yep, all the things she's supposed to do are done in advance because I am such a whore for praise.
The only thing I don't do is remove the callouses. For that she uses a Dremel tool with a sandpaper disc attachment, which I find quite ingenious. She warned me not to use my own Dremel tool- one false move and they'd be calling me Gimpy.
Later this month I have to see my regular care doctor for a biannual physical.
That means I have to have blood drawn today, so he can see how my glucose and cholesterol levels are doing.
That means I have to fast this morning until the blood gets drawn.
That means breakfast afterwards at the hospital cafeteria, which for me is one of life's true bargains. Eggs, bacon and toast runs about $1.25, and coffee jacks it up to $1.75.
It's no wonder half the hospital staff are the size of pygmy hippos. They apparently can't resist a bargain, either.
On Thursday I have an ophthalmology appointment, to see if my retinas have been blown by diabetes. I think they are fine, but it's jarring to think this damn disease might one day blind me.
Stem cell research could find a cure for diabetes and put an end to all this nerve-wracking preventive rigmarole.
Too bad the dry drunk imbecile at the helm in Washington, DC thinks that's about killing babies.
Someone ought to take a Dremel tool to that jackass.