Wishing It Weren't So

Years of being under-insured coupled with a propensity for self-delusion paved the way for me to ignore high cholesterol levels for the past 18 years. Now, nicely insured, I just went to the doctor for a full physical and, as I expected, am in good health all except for that one thing. Ready to address this, fears of ending up as a slobbering stroke victim clear in my mind, I eagerly popped the first Crestor into my mouth two nights ago.

Uncharacteristically, I woke in the night, experiencing strange feelings in my legs, but decided to persevere. Went for our annual Turkey Trot, was active most of the day and evening with Thanksgiving and then bowling, and though was aware of muscle discomfort, it didn't get me down. "I've got to do this!" I said valiantly as I dosed myself again last night around 9:00. By 12:00 I was whimpering for my husband to hold me, rub my back, my legs. It wasn't unbearable, but I definitely don't want to live out my days feeling like I have the flu. And I can't picture myself doing well at work this way.

The internet is happy to supply the hapless searcher with reasons both for and against taking statins to lower cholesterol. On a previous google search, I had greedily read about the cholesterol myth and the evil pharmaceutical companies and at that time concluded my problem was my sweet tooth. Having corrected that, a common-sense dietary change from any perspective, I was hopeful that my cholesterol numbers would have improved. The triglycerides were in normal range for the first time since I've had this problem, but the other numbers were as bad or worse than before. So much for the theory that it's the fault of sugar.

So, here I am on this Thanksgiving holiday, thankful for so much, and yet in a quandry - desiring to be a good steward of my body, but truly confused as to how far I go to work on two numbers from a lab result, numbers that may or may not indicate future problems. Do I try to develop a hankering for red wine every night? Do I subject myself to burping fish oil or others to garlic breath? Do I rationalize that the high numbers are genetic in the absence of heart disease? Do I suffer through with this statin in hopes the side-effects will wear off? Do I try a different one? A different dosage? Is it all much ado about nothing?

And I'm now so full from that bowl of oatmeal that I don't even want turkey and dressing leftovers.

A Memory

We’d been walking up the mountain for about an hour, a steep, uninspiring climb up a gravel road. Our initial enthusiasm for this week-long backpacking trip was already waning because we were so hot; the summer thus far had been one of the hottest on record. We’d looked forward to the cool of the mountains, but North Carolina was just as hot as Memphis, TN. I was seriously regretful. And hot. And thirsty.

Several times we had to yell, “Truck!” and move to the side to let one pass, then curse the exhaust, the dust. My mouth was totally dry; the heat was making me feel sick, and this was just the first hour of our first day of hiking.

But then, to our collective joy and surprise, upon rounding a bend, we saw that one of the trucks had lost some watermelons, which were lying there freshly split open and ready for us to pounce upon. Which we did with all the enthusiasm of children on Christmas morn. I have never been so thirsty or had my thirst quenched so exquisitely. That was 30 years ago, but I can still visualize the scene, recall the sheer pleasure of diving into those watermelon pieces, of being so thoroughly satisfied and refreshed.

That memory came to me this morning in church as our pastor taught from the scriptures. How thirsty I am each week; how I long to drink long draughts of pure, clean water. How glad I am that our pastor’s teaching is sound, rooted in the sacred writings. How grateful I am that for one hour I can sing along with my fellow travellers songs of hope, of praise. That together we affirm our need for, our reliance on, our trust in and our love for the One we call Beautiful. Jesus.