With Cholesterol, It's a Numbers Game

My annual physical tends to be as exciting as the rest of my life — meaning, not very. And that's a good thing. If I can answer my wife's question, "How did it go at the doctor's?" with a shrug and a Cro-Magnon grunt, it's a sign of another year of dull but clean living.

Unfortunately, my last physical forced me to answer with actual words. Or, rather, numbers. Cholesterol numbers, that is. My LDL level (a/k/a "bad" cholesterol) had shot up to 140, while my total cholesterol, which usually hovered around 180, was now at 213. Somehow, I had gone from the "safe" levels to "Update Your Will" without realizing it.

This made no sense. In addition to engaging in moderate exercise, I put fresh berries on my heart-healthy cereal every morning, ate more fruits with lunch, and veggies or a salad with dinner. Too, my red meat intake was no more than once a month.

"There must have been a glitch in the blood counting doohickey," I insisted to my wife, who claimed not to understand my theory — which shows you just how much her nursing degree is worth.

With the quiet patience of a kindergarten teacher talking to her slowest student, she reminded me about how I had spent several months' worth of lunch alternating between turkey and bacon sandwiches and lox and cream cheese bagels.

Then there was the occasional bacon, egg and cheddar cheese on weekends, washed down with coffee that had been lightened with cream — the same cream I had been drinking straight from the carton as of late.

I objected to this litany of truth. Weren't the fruits and vegetables supposed to counteract everything else I was scarfing down with reckless abandon? I certainly didn't feel like I was at death's door. Even when I aced a heart stress test the following week – unlike my first one years ago, I didn't collapse face first afterwards on the examination table afterwards – the cardiologist was ready to put me on statins.

While I never object to meds when needed, I knew there was a good chance I could lower the numbers myself. "Just let me change my diet before our next appointment," I replied. Giving me two months to clean up my act, she reluctantly agreed, even as she appeared to be mentally measuring me for a coffin.

Arriving home, I consulted with the imminent physician Dr. Internet to create a new dietary regimen. Out went the dairy, bacon and processed meats. In came plant-based yogurt, oat milk and sardines — none of which lasted more than a week.

The yogurt overdosed me with 110% of the recommended daily sugar intake; oat milk gave me more gas than a Sunoco station; and not even a jar of mustard and a bushel of onions prevented sardine sandwiches from tasting like, well, sardine sandwiches.

If I was going to drop the cholesterol count, I needed to eat stuff that only was safe for humans, but tasted good. And so, after switching to nonfat dairy milk and my wife's favorite plain yogurt, I became the proud owner of a Mediterranean cookbook.

Now this was food I could live with. The meals had plenty of flavor thanks to the herbs, spices and fresh vegetables, along with healthy protein like skinless chicken and fish. The more I ate, the more it seemed to me that folks who regularly cooked like this were living longer simply because they wanted to eat this stuff forever.

But humans cannot live by Mediterranean alone. And so I made the biggest dietary leap of my life since learning to eat solid food: ordering in steamed tofu with brown rice. Which, as I think of it, is more chewy than solid.

Expecting the tofu to taste something like a mattress, I was delighted to find yet another healthy meal that not only pleased the palette but went well with red wine. Whether the secret was in the mysterious brown sauce or not was no matter. As long as it tasted good, I was OK with it.

As for lunch, I decided to take another chance and go with vegan grilled cheese sandwiches. These, too, proved to be better than expected. The taste was close enough to the real thing, even if the faux-cheese didn't melt so much as it did get warm. On the positive side, it made the frying pan easier to clean.

I stuck nearly 100% to my new diet with only the occasional detours. (Would you reject an invitation for a free meal at the opening of a steak restaurant? I thought not.) When my daughter visited for the holidays, she was impressed by how her dad was turning his life – or at least menus – around. By the time of my next bloodwork, the LDL had gone from 140 to 95, while the total cholesterol dropped to 160 – probably the lowest of my adult life –in only eight weeks.

"How did you do this?" my cardiologist asked in disbelief — the only time a doctor asked me that question when it didn't involve my own stupidity, like the time I almost cut off the tip of my finger while slicing vegetables (three stiches, immeasurable embarrassment).

I cheerfully explained my new meal regimen so she could share the good news with her other patients — the first time I ever set a good example for anything.

I know full well that for people who are genetically inclined to high cholesterol, meds are necessary. But for me, the only prescription required was a fairly easy change in diet and some discipline, neither of which I thought myself capable of. And while I'll likely succumb to an urge for a strip steak or cheeseburger once in a while, I also know what I do regularly counts more than the occasional treat.

By the way, have you tried chia seeds on yogurt? It's good for you! Just don't ask me how or why.