Dear Dr.Oz,
Once upon a time when you were on Oprah I enjoyed your educational medical advice. You had it all going until the queen of daytime TV gave you your own show. Now all I have to do is listen to the daily list of topics, see the crowd clapping wildly like they are at a jousting match and I immediately cower in fear.
I already know I am going to end up dying as I sit here counting out the seven rippled potato chips that are really bad for me. I know my blood pressure is so high that my head is probably a lighthouse beacon, beckoning death at every step. But do I really need you to remind me every darn day?
Do I honestly want to hear your in-house gynecologist telling me how to prevent bunions in my vagina? I believe that all you have to do is wear larger shoes to prevent them and if you are getting sex once a month after the age of 40 just count yourself lucky and move on. I understand what’s making me fat and having the Food Network’s cake baker Duff Goldman on your program does not help. Watching him on his weekly TV show has added a muffin top around my waist and a soon to be resurrected bicycle rack on the back of my butt.
I would also request that you stop these celebrity health tip shows. Everyone knows their weight loss secret - they don’t eat. When their body starts going south I do not believe all these 24 hour workouts they profess to do. Everyone knows they just keep up the process of calling their nearest plastic surgeon to tighten things up until their face becomes really shiny. Frankly Dr. Oz, not even the furniture cleaner Pledge can make things look that shiny.
You just love trying to help us menopausal women when you really have not experienced things first hand. Of course it’s my hormones that are keeping me awake at night; it most certainly is not the sex! Yes, we talk about constipation among ourselves as we need extra things to discuss besides hot flashes, mood swings, and bunions on our vagina.
I realize fully why I am tired and I know why my left foot swells. That swelling foot was caused by the stress of the 28.5 hour birth of my oldest son. The swelling was left there for me to be constantly reminded of the screaming I was doing at the 26th hour of his birth. I believe my exasperated words to Doctor Trehuba were, “What do you mean you can’t give me a caesarean and want me to experience a natural birth?” I know you have also enlightened us all about the National Underwear Experiment but I strictly adhere to the postal system rule for underwear.
“If it fits it ships!”
I can go on and on, but one thing you don’t need to do is remind us of clues that we might be aging too quickly. When someone insists that you look just like your grandmother you now know there are more 'tree growth rings' around that vagina than bunions.
Linda Seccaspina for Zoomers Canada
" Menopausal Woman from the Corn' which is now available on Amazon