I am unmotivated lately. I’m not depressed or anything. It’s hot. It was 36°C with humidity in the 70s today. Nobody wants to deal with even dealing in this weather.

And I have so many doctor appointments to line up. I’m not even sick. At least not that I know of. It’s all routine maintenance and repair. I’m exhausted even thinking about it.

I need to make appointments to see a dentist (at least twice), an internist, a dermatologist, a gastroenterologist, an orthopedist, an ophthalmologist (probably twice), a phlebotomist, and a pharmacist.1 And then I have to actually go to all the appointments over the course of a couple of months. You just know every single office visit will end with me having to schedule a routine followup six months from now so they can check in on my credit score.

I saw the cardiologist on Monday. He says I have high cholesterol. I should reduce red meat to a single serving per week and cut way back on the dairy. Minimal saturated fats. He thinks that might help. Probably not much. But it could move the needle. Marginal gains.

If you have high cholesterol, you may read this and think to yourself, blah, blah, blah, internally parroting whatever you saw on the internets about dietary cholesterol and egg yolks actually being awesome for you and whatever else.

Shhhhhh.2

It’s okay. I know all about that.

I’m a special case. I have a genetic thing. Along with a designated cardiologist.

I’m also blessed with being what they call statin-intolerant. Even small doses of statins give me potentially dangerous side effects. A miracle drug unavailable to me.

I take Repatha instead. It works well. It kind of has to. There are only three FDA-approved options left for me to even try. Three.

So now I gotta figure out how to get really into seafood and olive oil.

There’s a reason you see older guys driving around in classic sports cars. You reach an age where everything starts going to bollocks, and a goofy Alfa Romeo is the only fun the doctors still let you have.

The clock’s ticking on the keys to the Duetto, too.

Footnotes

  1. The internist doesn’t administer the vaccines anymore. The pharmacist does all the jabs now.3 ↩

  2. Six was the maximum number of aitches my spellchecker found acceptable. Anything more would be preposterous. ↩

  3. I’m sure it’s entirely a coincidence that the largest pharmacy benefits manager (PBM) in the country also happens to be a wholly-owned subsidiary of the same company that owns the largest chain of retail pharmacies in the country. And, as it turns out, they also own one of the largest health insurance companies in the country. Total happenstance. No doubt. ↩