I’m not really a health guy. And yes, before you say it, I know that I should be. It’s something that I’m trying to work on…sorta
My problem is that there is just so much to keep up with – I’m not interested in counting carbs, calories, sodium, salt, fat, caffeine or anything else that has a percent sign near it on the label. Plus, I have a problem with anything related to math.
But my cholesterol is too high. Well, it was the last time I had it checked and that was well over a year ago. The thing I hate about cholesterol is that it isn’t something you can feel. It’s not like getting tired when your iron is low. There is no “cholesterol barometer” – at least not that I’m aware of. The last doctor who checked me out (Dr. Mallard, who is also a distant cousin) called it the “silent killer.” What a chilling thought.
My wife is always on me about it, too. She keeps up with those cholesterol raising foods and then tries to steer me away from them (Have I mentioned before that I really like chocolate?), not always successfully.
Part of my problem is that I don’t really know which foods cause cholesterol.
Fried foods do, don’t they? But wait—that’s high blood pressure, isn’t it?
See, I don’t know and am just not sure.
My wife says I have selective memory – I remember those things I want to remember. There is probably some truth to that (but don’t you dare tell her I’m admitting that!) as I’m more likely to be able to tell you when the battle of Shiloh was fought rather than tell you how many good carbs a food has. (For those of you who don’t know, Shiloh was fought on April 6-7, 1862).
I don’t keep up with medicine, either. When I get sick, give me a shot or give me some pills to get me better. I don’t really need to know what the medicine is. To be honest, I don’t really care. If it will make me better, just give it to me and I’m happy.
My sister, Angie, on the other hand, can tell you the name of the medicine in physician-speak. I can’t usually understand what she’s meaning and have to ask her to ‘splain it to me in common language.
Nah, Angie’s not a doctor, but she plays one on TV.
Nah, not that either, but she did work for a Hospital in Memphis a little while back. Granted, it was the IT department. If she’s in the IT department, how does she know about all the drugs? That’s beyond me. I can’t answer that.
She always makes me feel bad, too. When I talk to her and I’m sick, she’ll ask what medicine I’m taking. When I tell her that I don’t know, she starts tossing out guesses so that I’ve got to get my sick self up and get my medicine and then stumble through trying to read the label.
She usually interprets what I’m trying to say before I’ve even made it to the sixth syllable and then says I’m taking it for such and such. I usually, say “I dunno—I’m sick and that’s what the doctor gave me.”
She then proceeds to tell me what the drug is doing for me and how it’s helping (or not helping) to make me better. Often she’ll give me her “loving sis” prescription over the phone in an effort to give aid to my doctor—who never asked for her help to begin with.
It’s good for someone like me to have her around because I can always ask about medicines when I have a question. And it’s good that my wife keeps up with the calories and cholesterol and such.
But pour me a glass of milk and slide that extra Fudge Round my way, will ya?