BY LOIS DESOCIO
At my latest annual physical a few weeks ago, my doctor asked me who my cardiologist was. Cardiologist? I’m way too young for a cardiologist. Cardiologists are for old people with heart disease. She sighed. She shook her head in disgust. She was surprised I wasn’t dead yet.
“Your cholesterol is sky-high,” she said. (She said the same thing two years ago, and I’m still here.) “What do I have to do to get you to swallow that pill!”
That pill is Lipitor (apparently everyone is doing it), which she had prescribed for me two years ago, which I filled, and left sitting, unopened and expired on my dresser. As much as Julie will grasp every word her doctors and friends dole out, and will act accordingly, I rebuff. My quest becomes: “Phooey! I will prove you wrong.” I say no to drugs. And I eat a lot of spinach.