In the future, you get immediate answers to your hypothetical questions.

Does orange juice have cholesterol? What about gum? Cooking spinach in bacon grease negates any healthful qualities?! What?!

These are the kinds of questions I have to ask myself now before consuming anything. Good news: eggs are better for you than I thought. Bad news: not if you smother them in cheese.

About six months ago, I had a blood panel done because I was feeling a little "off" and I thought it might be thyroid related. It's not out of the realm of possibility in my family and it's way easier to blame than poor sleeping habits. When the results came back, my doctor, being of the compassionate and holistic military variety (that's sarcasm for those of you who don't know), basically told me I was a stroke waiting to happen. Or was it a heart attack? No wait: IT WAS BOTH.

Ehhh, pardon? I know I'm a bit out of shape, but I do get outdoor exercise every day and I eat my veggies.

Let's back up here. First, a little health history. I had a blood workup done four years ago and everything was hunky-dory. My cholesterol numbers were a teensy weensy bit on the higher side of normal, but since my lifestyle has actually improved since then (courtesy of one hyperactive dog), I didn't give it too much thought.

Guess what? Turns out your personal history doesn't mean squat in the face of your DNA history. And mine is full of HDL factories working overtime. Yay, DNA. (<-- also sarcasm)

Look, I know I'm fat. I gained a metric ton of weight since I quit working and skinny jeans are a thing of my past. I'm actually okay with that. Weight is a really poor indicator of health, as evidenced by the fact that six straight months of strictly regulated diet has netted me a gain of two pounds. THAT'S RIGHT: PLUS 2. And I have only had ice cream TWICE. IN SIX MONTHS.

I have to stop talking about ice cream now or I'm going to start crying.

The point is, I've been skinny. And I was a stressed out, neurotic mess the whole time. You know what? I'm happy now. It has less to do with my weight than a certain level of maturity one gains in one's 30's and a severe attitude adjustment about life, but if being fat is the price I pay for being happy, I'LL FUCKING TAKE IT. The prevailing wisdom among the female population in my family is that fat = ugly, but fortunately I no longer judge my appearance by the way I was raised.

Anyway, back to cholesterol. I go back for another blood test in a month to see if my diet is making a difference. I flatly refuse to take meds until I've exhausted every other lifestyle change in my control. Sadly, exercise is a huge factor in reducing bad cholesterol and it may be the next sacrifice I have to make. I hate to exercise. I don't mind being active, but treadmills/ellipticals/stationary bikes piss me off if I even look at them. The good news is that snow will be here soon and shoveling the walk way is a pretty good work out. Also, moving, which happens right after the snow and which will probably make me a stressed out, neurotic mess. Problem solved? :-/