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Los Angeles, California
I am 47 and thriving in Southern California. One day at a time.
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Wednesday, September 3, 2008

Pill Popper

I am pissed.

There's nothing eloquent or thought-provoking about this entry. Today, I'm just pissed.

Yesterday I went to Dr. Dauer with Kevin, my post-it of questions firmly clutched in hand. I asked about the lipid panel we drew last month and was informed that my cholesterol is now high.

This just pissed me right off.

A few years ago, my Canadian doctor, Dr. Cardella, asked me if I was taking medication for my cholesterol because my results were so outstanding. I remember it as an incredibly empowering moment for me. I had simply kicked everything up a notch. Was running 5 miles a day and eating exceptionally well. I was trim and fit and strong...And I was even indulging every now and then.

Everything in moderation, right?

Well, apparently not.

My blood results have been flirting with high cholesterol for the last few months, so when my results come in tomorrow a decision will be made.

To medicate or not to medicate?

I feel like one of those cartoon characters that has steam pouring out of its ears...

My diet is pretty near perfect. I don't even know what I would eliminate. Obviously it's some kind of genetic issue.

Admittedly, this is not such a big deal if you are otherwise healthy. What's one pill a day? But for me, it's clearly something else. I'm angry at yet another notch dug in the proverbial belt of loss of control. Sometimes I feel like this belt is around my neck and being pulled ever tighter with the gradual erosion of my health.

Ah, but who placed this belt around my neck and why are they tightening it?

To live in California is a fantastic thing. It's a place that embraces liberal vegans, eastern medicine and environmental nazis. But it can also be draining when living with a chronic health condition. The feeling pervades in L.A. that one can remain youthful and healthy indefinitely if one is wealthy enough or smart enough. And if you aren't healthy, well, then, somehow it's your fault.

I get e-mails soliciting me to purchase "miracle" juice, that I can't drink because it interferes with my medications. I pass yoga studios with longing, on the days when I can barely get out of bed. And now I have to analyze, even more astutely, the nutritional contents of my favorite Trader Joe/Whole Foods products.

SIGH. Fine.

I already take 18 pills a day. What's one more?