After my latest medical check-up the Doc had this to say about my blood work.
“Grumpy, you’re bad cholesterol is good, but your good cholesterol is bad.”
“Hold on there, Doc,” I respond. “There must be something I can do about that? I need to get better good cholesterol to counteract my good bad cholesterol, right?”
The good Doctor appears a little cross-eyed and semi-perplexed with that remark.
“Well, there are two ways we can approach this,” he begins. “You can exercise for thirty minutes a day, but it has to be intense exercise –you know, like a heavy make-yourself-sweat workout. Or, I can put you on a mega dose of Vitamin B.” Dr. Paul’s smirky smile is not unlike the one I described when he was about to check my prostate last April. (See Previous Blogs)
I tell him, “I’ll take the latter!” remembering, of course that intense exercise is verboten.
Getting a serious look on his face, Dr. Paul leans in to tell me, “There may be some side effects with the Vitamin B/Niacin therapy.”
He proceeds to tell me about a facial flush and a burning sensation upon the skin. I’m thinking, isn’t that one of the side effects of Viagra? I’m a bit disappointed when he doesn’t tell me to expect four hour erections.
He reassures me that if I stick to it, these initial effects will wane and, the pharmacist, in her wisdom, directs me to take the supplement at night, so the side effects will occur while I sleep.
I can do that. Sleeping is one of my most accomplished skills.
Two days after starting the Niacin plan I notice in the middle of the night, that I feel hot and flushed as well as itchy. I throw off the covers after my wife asks if I’m having a hot flash. She is a true believer in the man-o-pause thing. I tell her that the side effects have finally arrived. But, she’s already sleeping and answers me with a resounding snore.
So, the next, I’m out and about with my son and daughter, taking them to Wal-Mart, looking for all the deals. That’s when the biggest hot flash of all hits. I’m sure my face is beet red. I feel so hot that my arms begin to itch under my big fat Canadian winter coat. I throw off that coat just as my skin begins to get a creepy crawling sensation, you know, as if there are African worms boring through my dermis. Some people in these parts call it a “picky feeling”.
So I scratch the itches, wiggle with the tingles and get to the point where I am reminded of the Incident in Row B (See Previous Blogs), when my thing-a-ma-jig got all tangled up in an underwear thread.
I feel as if the only solution is to strip off my clothes and get naked. I need some soothing cool air upon my lily white, now burning, skin. However, I decide to apply better judgment, because I’m thinking about the obvious headline, “Naked Old Man Streaks Wal-Mart Blowout Sale.”
No, can’t go there, because this is Small-Towns-Ville and there are people who actually know who I am.
So, rather than continuing to shop in my Birthday Suit, I retire to my vehicle where I can scratch and itch to my hearts content, as well as loosen my clothing to expose a little skin.
I’m sure a few patrons s, upon seeing me hunched over in my car, were thinking, “Is that guy doing what we think he’s doing? My God, look how red his face is and he’s wiggling and squirming like he’s in the throws of passion!” or, more simply, “Kids, don’t stare at the bad man with the red face.”
Film at eleven, anyone?