Imagine it. A little exam room. Three women. One, a cardiologist with a strong Chinese accent. Another, ancient and gravelly voiced and very hard of hearing. The third, repeating every word spoken. If I transcribed the conversation word for word, your heart might stop beating out of boredom--unless you find repetition soothing--then you might just take a nap.
The upshot: Blood pressure and heart rate excellent. Lungs clear. Weight gain resulting in an almost normal bodyweight. Lab results: Enviable cholesterol and triglycerides. Great liver and kidney function. (Both have been kinda sketchy in the past.)
The bad news: My mom is the teeniest eeriest bit anemic.
Her secret: Consume a stick of butter every couple of days. Dump half the sugar bowl in your coffee that's liberally laced with half and half. Eat a quarter of a jar of jam on your toast. Ice cream every night before bed. Drink Coca-cola. Gatorade. And gin.
Lately when M and I see what my mother eats (while eating our kale) we say that we want to live to be 90. I'm planning my menu. Ice cream. Red wine. Cheese. Paté. Trail mix. Cake. Gin.
Oh, and speaking of matters of the heart, I'm over HERE today too.
4 comments:
Oh my god. And don't forget to add in- no exercise, right?
Your mother.
I can't wait for you to start eating pate and ice cream.
Life is so mysterious.
My grandmother is 94 and has spent most of my lifetime living on coffee, cereal, cinnamon rolls, and hamburgers.
You are hilarious.
Heck yes, is all I can say. Heck yes.
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