Hot Blooded

Hot Blooded                                                2631

Thursday, December 15, 2005-9:35 P.M.

"I'd rather be right than be president."
                                          -- Henry Clay  (1777-1852)

I seem to have lived my life with this philosophy, spoken by dear Henry Clay over a century and a half ago.  I've been called a complainer, a whiner, been threatened with bodily harm, called names, discriminated against, marginalized and ignored.  And still, I march on, trying desperately to be right.  It never ends.

Last month, I went in to see my personal physician, Dr. Megan Terwilliger, and let her poke, prod and humiliate me into taking better care of myself.  She's actually found a way to overcome my stubborness, I think by telling me that I'm going to die.  Hey, whatever works.

So at the end of my checkup, I went to the lab so they could take some blood for study.  This is necessary, because I'm on about six different prescription medications, and it's important to know if they're all doing their jobs, and are being prescribed at the proper concentration.  For the record, there's levothyroxine for my thyroid condition, lisinopril and hydrochlorothiazide for blood pressure, glyburide, metformin and gemfibrozil for pre-diabetic condition, and I take a garden-variety aspirin before bed each night for my heart. 

Two days later, I get a call from Dr. Terwilliger's office.  This is usually bad news, like, the results are back, and your cholesterol is so high, depressed people are committing suicide by jumping off of it.  But no, in fact, the news is that my boards are amazine, and frankly, my doctor doesn't believe it.  So I tell Susan from Dr. Terwilliger's office, no, go to Hell, I'm doing great and my blood study proves it, so I want credit for it, and I'll see you in three months.  She bitches and whines, and tells me it's for my own good, and please just come in, give another blood sample, and let us make sure.

O.K.  Listen.  I've already decided that my current lifestyle choice, vocation, etc, are going to make it VERY difficult to be a healthy person.  I was the fat kid growing up, and it wasn't by accident.  I was born into it, and frankly, it's pretty hard to push a train off the tracks when it's been there for almost 40 years.  Excercise?  I get plenty...after an 8-to-10 hour drive to Bumblescum, Tennessee, I get to carry my luggage up to my hotel room because they don't have an elevator.  And to eat healthy?  That would be easy, I suppose, if every fast-food restaurant didn't cause me to steer into their driveway like Jason and the Argonauts being beckoned by the Sirens to direct their boat right into the rocks.  Whoa is me.

Now, the problem is that in order to take a blood study, I have to fast for 12 hours.  That means no food.  And one of the things that I've done to modulate my diet is to eat throughout the day (as most diabetics are counseled to do) rather than eating larger meals.  Consequently, it's difficult to schedule a blood draw because most times you catch me, I ate something within the last 12 hours.  So I really had to give it the elbows 'n' knuckles to fast the 12 hours, and made it on Monday at 4:00.  And I got the results today.

Guess what?  STILL EXCELLENT!  My blood sugar is low, my cholesterol is awesome, and even though my triglycerides are high, they're lower than they were last time...that's all I'm looking for ...a little improvement.  Dr. Terwilliger even managed to put a little apology in the report, "sorry to be so skeptical."  Hey, I'll take it.  It's not like I'm not trying or anything.

Big corporate show for me on Saturday, and I just realized that it's going to distract me from the last Buffalo Bills home game of the season.  The Bills kick off at 8:00 P.M., and I'm on stage from 9:00 to 10:00.  Actually, the way the Bills are playing this year, maybe it's for the best.

I saw a great photo in the Rochester Democrat and Chronicle on Monday of a fan in the stands at Ralph Wilson Stadium last Sunday, who was holding a sign that said "Bring Back Marv."  Of course, they were talking about Hall of Fame Coach Marv Levy, who is one of the smartest coaches ever to work in the NFL, and a genuinely nice guy.  I would back the idea of Marv holding the clipboard if he wasn't 80 years old.  I do, however, like the idea of pushing Tom Donahoe (the General Manager) out of a fifth-story window.  He's a disaster, and now everyone in Upstate New York understands why the Pittsburgh Steelers organization was so happy to let him go.

Tomorrow is Christmas Tree Day, and I'm actually a little anxious to see how my daughter Harmony is going to react to it.  She's not even two yet, and this will be her first Christmas tree, and I'm anxious and excited to see how she likes it.  She says "Wow" when she sees the Christmas lights I have up in the windows, so maybe she'll like it.  I hope she does.  Pamela and I bought here this nifty toy dog from Fisher Price that sings songs and teaches colors and numbers and does the alphabet song, and she's been mesmerized by it.  When we were in the store, she seemed to take to it, and when Pam put it back on the shelf, Harmony started to pout a little bit, so I grabbed it and put it in the cart.  I think I'm on the way to being the parent of a spoiled kid, but I don't care.  I want to be able to give her everything she wants, and what's wrong with that?

Ralph Tetta

Rochester, NY