I saw the cardiologist today. It was a good visit. He was nice. He spent lots of time with me, and answered all my questions, and gave me an EKG (which was totally interesting — I felt as if a six-year old were putting stickers all over me) and then said I HAVE TO LOSE WEIGHT.
And can I tell ya? For a girl who likes her weight, who really believes she was okay with exactly what she looks like, to have a man tell you that, while his eyes go up and down you, feels kinda crappy.
His eyes went from the weight listed on the chart to my body, and then back down again. Then up to my chest. Then back to the number again. Then over to my shoulders. I am NOT making this up, I swear to god.
And then he wouldn’t let the "what do you eat" thing go. Dude. C’mon. I only eat veggies. And brown rice. Don’t I look like that kind of person? Shut up. I like tofu. I like green things. I would never think about chowing down on some nice, crisp bacon with fluffly cheesy eggs on the side (typo = dies. Wow).
Then I started telling more of the truth. Okay, sometimes I eat Taco Bell. Every once in a great while, maybe a cheeseburger. Or two. Maybe some Mexican food when I’m at work. Or every other night.
He kept raising his eyebrows as I upped the ante. It was embarrassing to see him not believe me (and before you defend me, he was right to not believe me). Okay, some cookies sometimes. Maybe some "healthy" chips? Maybe a little ice cream. He nodded. Maybe some more ice cream. He nodded again. Maybe a shitload of ice cream with lots of hot fudge and brownies, to boot. And some MORE hot fudge! And whipped cream!! Get outta my way!
Snap! The folder closed, and he explained that the fat in my body, while not at the obese level, is still chemically reacting with and against the triglycerides that I have to lower. So he says I need to run more. (Gasp!) And eat better. Period.
And he did say I was right in not going on the meds my silly primary care doctor badly prescribed — he’d rather me manage the triglycerides with diet and exercise if at all possible, which he thinks it is, since I’m young and have no terrible habits (he doesn’t know about the yarn stash), and since the meds can sometimes damage the liver.
More veggies! Less sugar and fat (even fruit is too sugary, he says). Lala, who likes her some girl-shaped girls, is devastated and might just kick his ass. My little trained pugilist.
But I’ll just try to be healthier, which will be easier thanks in no small part to your fabulous suggestions of earlier this month, and I’ll try not to rankle at a stranger telling me to LOSE WEIGHT (yes, all caps is SO necessary).
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