High Cholesterol is a Bitch. That I want to fight.

High Cholesterol is a Bitch... that I want to fight... Can I fight my cholesterol? YEAH I CAN!

As stated earlier, I have ADD. And in order for me to sanely function through my day I must be on some sort of medication. Now do not confuse the previous statement with me saying I cannot function at all without my meds. I am simply saying that it is a lot better for me and probably you for that matter if I'm on them. I'm less likely to cuss you out and give you the bird when you cut me off while I'm driving. I am less likely to interrupt you when you are trying to tell me some important story you've been trying to tell me for weeks. Let's just say we can both get more accomplished when I have a little more help.

About three weeks ago I found myself at the very bottom of the bottle with just a few days worth of doses left.
So I did what any other person would do and requested a new prescription. Of course that would come with it's consequences. I was diagnosed with the disease, condition, whatever its being called now, a little over three years ago and have learned to dodge and maneuver my way around having blood test for that exact amount of time. Call me crazy but I'm definitely not trying to be poked and prodded by anyone ever so having blood taken is never on the top of my list. So I get a letter in the mail that states, "Hi Celia. I will not be filling any more of your prescriptions until you receive the required blood test." What?! Why the fuck did you even feel the need to say hi if you were just going to ruin my life with the next sentence. Okay, Okay, ruining of the life may be a bit extreme but let's be honest here, it's pretty damn difficult for me to function without it.

So I tell my mom what the letter says and she basically said suck the shit up I get poked every week we're going tomorrow. I thought at least she'd be on my side. WRONG! So the next day rolls around and my mom proceeds to take me down to Kaiser and get the lovely blood test done. I can not stress enough how unhappy I was at this moment by the way. I mean I know I would have walked the fuck out if my mom hadn't drove and I had a getaway vehicle.

So they finally call my name and I head back into the lab. I see a very friendly looking black lady and get kind of excited because I'm sure she'll have some kind of sympathy for me and maybe I'll get a lollipop or some stickers out of the deal. My mom looks at me and said, "Oh she's good. You want her to do yours." I'm like damn shouldn't they all be good? I mean, isn't this their fuckin job? So I took a seat in the cold ass room, in a cold ass chair, and placed my arms up on the cold ass table. The friendly black lady happened to be extracting numerous viles of blood from this old white couple so I had to wait. Everything was going fine until this big ass Mexican girl came around the corner. This bitch looked mean. She was huge and had a uni brow that came to a point in the middle of her forehead. Can you imagine that? A big ass Mexican with a uni brow. Oh yeah she had sideburns too. You know how those hairy Mexican girls have like beards and shit. Sideburns like Johnny Bravo. Yeah well that was her. So she waddles on over to me and asks me my name and tells me to stick my arms out. I took one look at her and said, "NO."

Big Mexican: "No? What do you mean No?"

Me: "Exactly what it sounds like. No. You are not going to be the one to administer this blood test."

Big Mexican: "I'm sorry sweetie but you don't have a choice. This isn't a place where you can pick and choose who is doing your test."

Me: "YEAH it is. No offense or anything but I don't need your heavy handed ass trying to get anything out of my body. This is a job for someone with grace. And I'm just not convinced you can do that for me."

Big Mexican: "I've been doing this job for years. I have many employee appreciation certificates hanging on the wall. Me being overweight does not affect my ability to do my job."

Me: "No. When you were overweight I bet that didn't affect your ability to do your job. However, now that I see you passed that category a hundred pounds ago. I will not allow any obese person place their damn hands on me. Can't you see how fragile I am?"

Big Mexican: " How do you expect anyone to want to be gentle with you when you are so rude. I can't believe the things you said even came out of your mouth?"

Me: "Look I tried to be nice to you okay? I really tried to just say no. But it was you who chose to ramble on about the ability to do your job. What do you want me to say? This is not a small ordeal. Look in the mirror lady. You don't even have the ability to raise your arms long enough to fill in your mean ass uni brow with your damn sharpie marker without shaking and ruining your face. There is no way in hell I'm letting you come within a hundred yards of my arm with any needle in your hand. That petite friendly looking black lady will do just fine thank you. Please step aside."

So needless to say she was hurt off that. She started shaking and getting all red and what not. Sweating her eybrows off. I was so embarrassed for the poor girl. I'm sure this was the last place she thought she'd be judged for her size. Boy was she wrong.

So a few minutes later the friendly black lady comes by. She starts popping my arm and shit. We're both praying a vein will pop out just long enough for her to get this shit over with. She says, " Man now I see why you are so sensitive about your blood test. You have tiny veins." I almost cussed her out. No shit I have tiny veins. I have a tiny body. What do I look like having big as veins on this little body? Come on now.

So two viles of blood and a urine test later I'm out the door with three lollipops, two balloons, and five stickers looking like a damn kid. But I don't care. I just had a fuckin blood test done that I've been avoiding for weeks. This is a damn celebration. I get a refill on the prescription, I survived the blood test, and now mom's taking me to John's Burgers. It's a good ass day.

A few days pass and I went to get the mail. Another letter from Kaiser Premenente (sp). Damn. What else do they want? I just wanted to get my damn prescription in peace and they keep fuckin bothering my ass.

The letter reads:

Hi Celia. You have high cholesterol. Your number is 220 and that is high as shit. You need to lose 5-10 lbs., work out regularly, and stop eating John's Burgers everyday.

Okay, Okay that wasn't it word for word but it was along those lines.

Can you believe it? I have high fucking cholesterol. To make matters worse, they say I have to go back in three months to check my levels again. Which means another run in with the fat bitch.

So I'm eating better now. I haven't had anything fried and no fast food in a little over two weeks. My pockets are fatter from all this money I'm saving. And, with all these bowls of Cheerios I've been eating... the box says I'll lower my shit by four percent in 6 weeks. I'm trying to get an endorsement deal. So if any of you know anyone who works for General Mills shoot them my number.

23,811... 2,600 words left today... 14 days left... 76,187 words to go... I'll be back Mutha Fucka!!!