Three weeks ago I visited my family doctor for a routine physical. For most of my adult life I stuck to a strict schedule of making sure I would get myself checked out every year, but this time I realized that it had been over two years since my last visit. No worries though, as I felt about as good as I can remember myself ever feeling and I wasn't expecting anything out of the ordinary.
Everything went great, and the Doc was surprised at how well I was eating and the level of activity that I kept myself in. I even managed to get out of there with my dignity intact as well. You see I just turned 45 and have been told for some time now when I could count on the old five fingered kiester drill. I was convinced that the day had finally come but to my relief I was assured it could wait. I jumped back into my street clothes, went to the lab to tap some blood, and I was back on the road in twenty minutes.
Two days later the phone rings and it's the Doctor's assistant calling with the results of my lab work. I'm told that my cholesterol is too high and given the fact that I eat right, I don't smoke, I'm not overweight, and I'm basically in the best shape a man of my age can be in, they suggest prescription medication for me. But that's not my style. That's for the greying guy on the TV commercials who runs opposite the male enhancement offers. Not someone who cycles 120 miles a week and visits the gym regularly. Again I ask, "why me God?"
I have to think a generally large portion of the population in this world lives with high cholesterol. And most people know this of themselves and just shrug it off as a minor bump in the road. But not me! No my friend, I'm finding myself spending the next three hours of my day Googling everything about what I can do to battle this evil disease that I'm afflicted with. I put work, family, and friends on hold until I research the medication, find the right diet, and figure out an end to yet another reminder that I'm not 20 years old anymore.
A day later I rise from the ashes with what I affectionately call the "Pansie Boy Grocery List" and it's off to the store to stock up on more wheat, fruit, and green boring things than a man deserves. My cart is missing crackers, red meat, soups, and all the sustenance that I once thrived on. The times were gonna change and I was damn well gonna change with it. And three weeks later I'm proud to say I'm still doing my part to stick with it and actually feeling better for it.
I know I've made a mountain out of a mole hill here. Although the risk of heart disease is nothing to take lightly, I know that in my case I shouldn't be as alarmed as I was/am. My case is minor at best, and with the proper diet and medication I should be able to live with this. Maybe even someday without the meds.
It just stinks when you find yourself getting up in the years and you start to realize all the indicators of it. That eagle eye you once had is getting a bit fuzzy now. The flight of stairs once taken with no effort now brings a few extra breaths. The food you once ate and the alcohol you consumed right with it is now living comfortably forever around your waist. And that extra skip in your step is more of a trip.
High cholesterol is just another foe to deal with when you've become accustomed to a certain lifestyle that brought you much happiness and gratification. Most of which was dependent on the size of your plate. It's not a death sentence. It's livable, doable. It's all up to you. Live for the day or plan for the future. It's your choice and I for one choose the latter. I just hope this is as hairy as it gets. Could you see me with anything serious?
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