I Was a Teenage Mutant Cholesterol Monster
I love my new doctor. I hated my old doctor, so this is good. Apart from emergency scares, like when I woke up in the middle of the night with chest pains (wheeeee! that’ll put the fear into you!), or when I had Killer Krell Bronchitis a few years ago, or when body parts unexpectedly fall off, I tended not to go to my old doctor. Like for the past three or four years. Ever.
The Old Doctor couldn’t remember who I was, even after seeing me four times in the course of 6 weeks. Some people might not find this alarming. All I can tell you is that historically I tend to be memorable. If the cute Indian cashier at the Key Food can identify me at 20 paces, shouldn’t my doctor be able to do as much? It’s not like he doesn’t have my name written down in front of him, and when you’re named Linus that’s a tip-off right there.
My New Doctor called the other day to see if the insurance company had cleared my upcoming MRI. I was surprised to hear from her; on Wednesdays her office is closed. “Yes,” she explained, “but I took some work home.” I love my New Doctor.
“Now Sparky,” she said, “I need to talk to you about your cholesterol. You said it was high when you last had it checked, but it is very high. These numbers are absurd.”
What can I say? I’m an overachiever. And she didn’t actually call me Sparky.
I’m now on medication for the first time in my life, and probably for the rest of my life, which is a strange thing to think about. My prescription for atorvastatin calcium is a daily intervention. A little less scary when you note that atorvastatin calcium is better known as Lipitor®, because who isn’t on Lipitor after 35 or so. But still.
The numbers? Hang on to the skids, kids. I can wrap the Reichstag with my cholesterol; I can pave rural flyover counties with it. If I ever run hungry on a desert island I’ll scoop some out and use it in a casserole. My total level was 363, LDL 271 (woohoo!) and HDL 92. If I’d known, I could have made cholesterol shelves for my DVD’s instead of buying storage racks from Overstock.com. When I get a system that can handle Doom 3, I’ll be using the Lipid Gun as my default weapon.
I love my doctor. And when I got off the phone with her I called Peter Luger to make reservations for our annual Home Office Records company dinner.
October 28th, 2004 at 13:47
i hear those statin drugs work pretty well at getting the numbers down again.
wait, which one is the good cholesterol? if that’s the higher number, is that not cool? they told us it was GOOD cholesterol!
October 28th, 2004 at 13:56
Unfortunately that high high number is not really the good cholesterol one. The weeny runty trickly low number, which is a good 30-40 points too low? That would be the GOOD cholesterol.
The big robust brawny Type-A winning number, that’s the BAD cholesterol one. And all together they add up to, oh, say, twice what should be normal.
Old Doctor opined that my levels might be genetic rather than dietary (apparently he was allowing for the possibility that I might be secretly living exclusively on deep fried chicken skin and fatty crusts of steak from which the meat had been removed).
I told this to my New Doctor, and she laughed. “Of course that’s genetic,” she said. “Numbers like those aren’t normal.”
October 28th, 2004 at 13:57
It must be kind of discomfiting to hear a doctor use the word “absurd” in reference to you.
October 28th, 2004 at 14:58
“when you’re named Linus that’s a tip-off right there”
Maybe the doctor was confused because you weren’t carrying a security blanket? :-)
Anyway, I’ve got crap cholesterol numbers, too. And my doc ALSO says, “Hmmm… you’re not a fat tub o’ goo, so must be genetic. Here - take these pills every day for the rest of your life.”
I hate aging :-/
October 28th, 2004 at 16:51
Abby, Dr. New Doctor calls ‘em like she sees ‘em, and I’m not sure she’s far off. It’s better than the old classic line — I first heard it via Bill Cosby — about how the one thing you never want to hear your doctor say is “Ooops.”
Surgeons especially, but it’ll go for any medical practitioner, I imagine.
Harvey, I bet my numbers are bigger than your numbers. Aging, well, let’s hear what you think when you actually GET here. 8>
But remember: Pfizer loves us. Dearly. They want us to live forever, or until we run out of money. Whichever comes first.
October 29th, 2004 at 12:42
I wonder what John Peel’s cholesterol was like…
October 29th, 2004 at 14:28
Yeah, I think your numbers ARE worse than mine.
And I found a way to enjoy Pfizer’s love: I bought their stock :-)
I’ll sell it just before their patent on V!agr@ expires ;-)