Carol's Love...

I feel so warm.  So loved.  So adored.

Too bad I now HATE Carol.

Here's how my doctor's appointment with Carol went down...

The point of badness for your cholesterol is 200.  I've always been just under that at 197 or 198.  Something I've always been proud of.  But when I came to Texas, I was told by my new doctor that those numbers were not good enough.  Nope.  In fact, they were bad.  Very bad.  And I was put on cholesterol medicine.  And aspirin.  And fish oil.

Okay.  I understood.  I didn't agree, but I understood.

A year passed and I was due to be rechecked.  And so, I was.  Remember when I saw Carol in the parking lot?  That was the day.  Last week.  I gave blood and sweat and tears.  Well, pretty much, anyway.

So... the results came in and I showed back up to Carol's office today.  (And by the way, she was dressed SO much better today.  No prettier, but much more fashionable.)

My new cholesterol score?

ONE FIFTY FIVE.  Yes, 155.  About as far from 200 and one can get.

And you know what Carol said?

"You are headed straight for a stroke."  I wanted to bite her.  I mean, REALLY?  I was so stinkin' proud of my score and she shot me right down.  My numbers were so pretty!  But not pretty enough for Carol.  Noooooo.  155 meant absolutely nothing to her.

Apparently my bad cholesterol is okay but my good cholesterol isn't good enough.  My good cholesterol is an under achiever.  Actually, I didn't know I had good cholesterol.  I didn't know ANY cholesterol was good.

And what can I do about this apparently world-shattering dilemna?  Well, Carol had the answer for me.  NO more red meat.  Ever.  Never.  No more eggs, no more dairy products.  That means no more milk, no more butter.  No more pork.  No more cheese.  CHEESE?  NOT CHEESE!!!! 

No more nothing that I like.  Pretty much no more desserts... 'cuz desserts are usually made with eggs.  I can have chicken and bison.  BISON!  Like I'm gonna drive through Carl's Jr. and order a bison burger.  And I'm just so sure that Del Taco has bison quesadillas.  Never mind that I LIVE IN TEXAS AND STEAKS ARE A REQUIREMENT HERE!

I hate Carol.  And I'll probably hate bison, too.

What is a bison anyway?
Is it anything like a venison?  'Cuz Carol gave me permission to eat venisons, too. 

Oh oh.  Rudolph's looking a bit worried right now.
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