My sister, Sarah, is a very, very mean girl. Ever since she started physical therapy school this August, she has come to regard herself as an expert on all things medical. Ever since she started spending so much time in a cadaver lab, I think that the formaldehyde has made her a little bit loopy. She pretty much thinks that she knows best and that you are lucky to have her advice and are therefore practically contractually obligated to follow it.
She informed me a few weeks ago that, if my diet was low in folic acid or something ridiculous like that, that I risked having a baby with spina bifita. I'm totally NOT trying to get pregnant--quite the opposite. But she told me that pregnancy would be a much bigger blow if I also jeopardized my baby's health by keeping up with a diet that is low in folic acid. After all, every other nutrient that you need during pregnancy you can build up during gestation, but whether or not you have folic acid is apparently something that is crucial from the moment of conception. "Eat more broccoli," she practically begged me. "I've started bringing it in my lunch now." Who does that? Who suddenly becomes so worried about their levels of folic acid that they carry broccoli with them in their lunch? The normal person would just bring a sald, if they are so concerned about vegetable consumption. But no, my sister brings broccoli. Raw or cooked? I'm not sure, but either way its kinda weird.
It gets worse.
She likes to tell me about what fat looks like on the cadavers. Personally, I am grossed out just by the fact that there ARE cadavers and that people sit around studying them. There's more, but I don't want to gross anybody out with the finer details. Moral of the story: do not donate your body to science. I told my sister that I think it is disrespectful to the dead and that I felt very uncomfortable hearing about it, but she has little to no regard for my personal comfort.
She is also concerned about my teeth, which is weird for a physical therapy student. I guess at school they had some dental students come visit and give them some pointers, and my oh-so-enlightened sister decided to give me a lecture on how to brush my teeth to help avoid gingivitis. Yeah...thanks, sis. I'll help you with your will someday.
And the worst of the worst: she told me I need to cut down my diet soda intake. According to my mean sister, people who drink more than three diet sodas a day are like 61% more likely to suffer a heart attack or stroke.
Nooooooooooooooooooooo!
I love Coke Zero! It wouldn't hurt me! I don't want to believe it. It hurts my heart. But knowing these facts, I can't really keep up my current level of diet soda consumption. I mean, who wants to suffer a stroke or a heart attack? Of course, I do everything I can to keep healthy--I eat well, make sure to get my folic acid, I exercise on a regular basis, take care of my teeth and gums, and I really stay in pretty good general health. But I do have a couple vices. I bite my nails...and I consume copious amounts of Coke Zero.
I guess all good things have to come to an end, and I will definitely reduce this diet soda dependency. I hate when my sister gives me details that I'd rather not have, but I guess its better to know and make a change than suffer poor health later in life. Still, sometimes I feel like it'd save me some trouble if I just didn't answer the phone when she calls--or at least, when she starts talking about PT school, if I started humming to myself and ignore the finer details. After all, with six months of PT school under her belt, my sister is practically an expert on all things health and fitness related. Just ask her.
But I guess it's never a bad idea to make a few changes to create a better, healthier me. I will be sincerely sad to cut down on the Coke Zero, though. It'd be better if I just never got old and infirm. Perhaps if I double up on the anti aging moisturizer? I wish it worked that way.
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