No, not that kind of coming out! If there is anything to be gleaned from watching Josh Duhamel movies, it is that I am completely heterosexual. Okay, that’s probably the only thing to be gleaned from watching Josh Duhamel movies. I digress.

Almost a year ago, I had some routine blood-work done that showed my “bad” cholesterol was in the 260’s. For all of you 20-something readers, that’s high. Also, it’s been nice having you read my blog.

Truth be told, I was eating horribly; lots of fried, high-fat food and hardly any fruits or vegetables. I thought I could bring the numbers down by changing my diet. When my doctor asked, “What are we going to do about this cholesterol?”

I said, “I’m going to lose some weight!”

I don’t know if you know this, but you can’t just say, “I’m going to lose some weight” and have the weight come off. I’m sorry to break that to you. As a matter of fact, if you take a full-time job that has you sitting at your desk for long hours and working a lot of overtime, you will actually gain weight. Yep. It’s true.

Starting last September I really did try to change my diet, and in January I started working out about six times per week. I was making real changes, because the cancer in my family lit a fire under my patootie. I’m 40 now. I use words like “cholesterol” in blog posts. It was time.

When I went back to my doctor for a blood test in early February, I was sure these changes would be reflected in my numbers. Were they ever! My cholesterol went UP to nearly 290. It was awesome to hear that; almost as awesome as jumping off a two-story building and landing on your kneecaps.

My doctor said, “You’re building plaque as we sit here” and gave me two options; either take a statin drug every day, for the rest of my life, or drastically (and without moderation) alter my diet. When I asked him what that meant he said, “You’d have to go vegan.”

As in, no more butter. Ever.

It took me exactly two seconds to agree to try it. I have long said that I could easily be a vegetarian and when I pictured what was happening inside my body, the change was easy. Have I craved a nice, cheesy pizza? Yes. Is the cheesy pizza worth heart disease? No. I also know it isn’t good to drink alcohol while taking statins and if you ask me whether I’d rather give up animal products or beer, well…it’s not really a question at all.

I’m 11 weeks in to this lifestyle change and if my numbers are low enough after my next blood test, I can go off the prescription. Also, if that happens you’ll see me walking around with my arms in the air, like Rocky, for about a week. I’ll be the one yelling, “I WIN!”

Of course, not everyone has to take such drastic measures; I’m just lucky like that. I made my family cheeseburgers last night. Tonight, they’re having pork roast; tomorrow, barbecued chicken. You get the idea.

I, however, eat a lot of this:

So there, I’ve come out with it. Unless I’m miraculously approved to once again become a carnivore, you can refer to me as a vegan. Or, Rocky. Either one.

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Since before Christmas, and my sister’s cancer diagnosis, when my mother-in-law was in the midst of her cancer treatments and a friend’s dad was fighting the same ravaging disease, I have not had it in me to write. I don’t know why.

Sure, it’s logical that when so many people you care about have been irrevocably touched by an awful disease that it’s hard to let your mind stray far enough to find words, but I have written through a lot here; more than I even care to rehash (or link to).

While I doubt that anyone would mind if I needed time to sort out this lack of creativity, I would love it if I could find it inside myself to write something for them. A tribute, a rally cry, something to make them smile…anything. Instead, I sit here and stare at the wall in a quasi-funk, feeling sorry for everyone. I hate that. They would hate it too.

But, I feel like my muse is hooked up to a chemo pump and my mojo is being burned away by daily radiation. I know that people I love are hurting and I can’t pretend otherwise.

This state of being miserable just isn’t me. I’m not used to being depressed. I’m always anxious, yes, but not downright sad. This has to change right now. I can’t expect them to put up a good fight when I’m not doing my best to do the same.

So, I’m making a promise to stop this nonsense. It doesn’t do any good to stare at the wall and wish things were different. If that were the case, I’d wish everyone was healthy and that I was in Fiji with a raft and a fancy drink and I would see my muse walking toward me on the beach with a Macbook in hand. Swoon.

Tomorrow is a new day full of hope and opportunity and I’m not going to waste it. It’s the least I can do. For them.

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