There’s no question about it. I need to lose weight. Unfortunately, I’m just not wired to active the “get up and go” function that some people seem to be able to easily engage. I like to write. I like to eat. I like to cook. I like to FaceBook and Instagram and I like to occasionally watch some TV. But, do I naturally want to go for a walk? Do some bending? Stretching? No, but maybe some kvetching.
The reports I get from my doctor are clear and precise. The problem is with the medical language he uses. I have to honest. I don’t speak in that tongue. “Your Blood Sugar is too high.” Wait a minute .. My what? Did I spill some blood in my Raisin Brain this morning? To my knowledge (which I admit is very limited) I haven’t put any sugar in my blood. And, if I doid it surely got there by taking a short cut through my esophagus.
Okay, now he tells me that my kidney function is too high. Really? I went to pee this morning and my … function .. as far as I could tell … was working on all cylinders. Where does he find this “Function switch”? Is it hidden in a fat fold that I’m not familiar with? And, do I really need to see what condition my condition is in? Yeah, yeah, yeah .. oh, yeah…
My hemoglobin A1c results are slightly high. And, that’s consistent with a risk of diabetes but, according to the American Diabetes Assn. hemoglobin A1c represents optimal control in non-pregnant diabetic patients. Oh, we’ll that’s comforting .. I think ..
Okay, let’s divert a bit here. Let’s talk about calories. Now, there’s a word I can really wrap my head around. When I’m cooking I never see any indication of how many calories I need to add to Eggplant Parmigiana. And, I don’t know what they look like or taste like. So, how to you control your intake if you don’t see a calorie?
I’ve read that it’s important to burn calories. Hmmm. That’s an interesting notion. Gather up all of the calories in your kitchen, put them into a small paper bag and throw them into your barbecue grill and light a fire under them. Now, that seems like a logical way to lose weight. I could probably work that into my daily routine between a nap and a snooze.
On another note I’m told that I need to eat more protein. Well, that seemed to make some sense. So, I went to the supermarket and approached the butcher in the back. I asked him if he had any fresh protein. He said he had plenty of it. I said, “Great, can I have a pile of protein to hold me over for the next six months?” He gave me a look. You know that kind of look your high school math teacher gives you when you ask him how much is ja-gundo? Now, if you can’t see a calorie or taste a calorie, I wonder if you can smell a protein? So, I went back to the butcher. He was still adjusting his glasses from the last look he gave. I said, “do you have any proteins that I can smell?” He took a deep breath and said, “Son, have you ever been injected, inspected, detected, infected, neglected and selected?” (Alice’s Restaurant, Arlo Guthrie). I was bit overwhelmed but, I had a feeling he was onto me. So, I moved over to the vegetable department. And, I asked the veggie man: Do you have any fresh protein that tastes good? Again, I got a look. And, a deep breath. I have a feeling that the butcher sent him a text about me. Well, I didn’t wait for an answer.
I just went onto my final question. If I was somehow successful at losing weight, could I visit my long lost fat somewhere? After all, it must go somewhere. So, I asked my wife. And, I got a look.
She kindly said to me, “Honey, it’s just one of those mysteries of the universe.”
And, then in her next breath she said, this whole essay is indicative of my issues. Whatever that means.