When the human body gets to a certain age it apparently stops caring. A little extra fat here, an elevated cholesterol level there, some male pattern baldness and then let’s throw in hemorrhoids because, well, nature’s mean.
My last trip to the doctor for a yearly checkup* was spotless – except for one thing. The doctor said something was off with my liver.
My liver? My liver? Who ever thinks about their liver? Raise your hands, people. Anybody? I thought not. … Hey, you in the back. Put your hand down and stop being a smart ass.
In the course of an average day, nobody other than a butcher actively thinks about livers.
A liver is what Hannibal Lecter has for dinner with fava beans and a nice chianti. It’s what you get at the grocery store when buying a whole chicken (and if you think the liver and gizzards packaged in the cavity are from that chicken, you’re sadly mistaken). My liver is what saved me from poisoning myself with cheap booze in college lots of times. Lots and lots.
And I have never considered my liver’s feelings. Nope. Not once.
So, what does a liver do besides taste great fried with onions?
Apparently a lot. Our friend the liver produces proteins vital for blood clotting. Thanks, liver. It breaks down fat cells and converts them into energy. Gosh, liver, I really need to show you more attention. Do you like cake?
The liver also removes toxins from the body like the kind I put into it with my old pal beer.
For the first time in my medical history, my liver enzymes were wonky. Frankly, I’m surprised it was the first time. None of this stopped my wife from telling me the test showed I probably had cancer.
Guys, the No. 1 thing to look for in a mate is not if she’s intelligent, or funny, or looks great in cotton underpants. She needs to be supportive. Thanks for being my rock, honey.
Good God, I’m 50. My liver enzymes are screwy. My wife thinks I have some kind of No-Humor Tumor. I find myself more and more often sitting when I go to the bathroom and I want to yell at neighbor kids who walk on my lawn. What else is wrong with me?
Medical science shows that when a guy turns 50, depression and dementia become more likely, as do prostate problems, bladder cancer, impotence, incontinence, testicular issues and heart disease.
|Me in a few years realizing I just pooped.|
That’s a hell of a lineup. Batting cleanup is No. 8 Heart Disease. The Big HD is hitting .347 with 114 RBIs.
The males in my family have a history of heart disease. It could be genetic. It could be our mutual love of pork products. It could also be that stress is a factor in heart disease and the Offutt nuclear family is called “nuclear” for a reason.
Turns out wonky liver enzymes are pretty normal and are sometimes caused by a “fatty liver.” Hmm. Fatty liver? Sounds about right. I need a sandwich.
*Go yearly, folks, especially when you’re my age because after 50, parts don’t just stop working, they fall off.
Check out Jason’s new website atwww.jasonoffutt.com.