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Walking away from high cholesterol …
I am a healthy, active, almost sixty-year-old woman, I eat healthy food, much of which we grow in our edible forest garden, I don’t smoke and only have the occasional splash of alcohol, and I’m not overweight, so why am I worried about having high cholesterol?
I had a routine blood test, and my bad Cholesterol level was sky high. The doctor was shocked. I was shocked. How did this happen? I know last year was a hard one, and stress is a factor, but this high?
The Dr said,
I should give you tablets, but I’m going to give you 3 months to lower that number naturally.
Do you smoke?
‘No.’
No more charcuterie. Cut down on meat.
‘I don’t eat meat. I do eat fish though.’
Fish is good. Eat lots of vegetables and nuts.
‘I already do.’
More exercise, walking, cycling…
I could have laughed, but in the last year we have cycled less than previous years. I am active, always busy doing something, my family often say they are tired just hearing about what I do in a day, but I am not necessarily doing prolonged exercise.
I nodded okay, more indoor bike rides then as the weather was cold and wet, or very windy.
No more cheese, butter, or cream.
Okay, that I could change. That would be a big change. I cook with butter and love cooking with cheese, and although it would be hard, I could do it.
And I did.
I discovered that I didn’t miss cheese as much as I thought I would and when I have a little piece occasionally, it makes it special. Cheese and butter are expensive too, so another plus to not eating so much of it.
I also discovered nettle tea is brilliant for bringing down the bad cholesterol and as I love eating nettles and keep a few patches in my garden and I drink lots of herbal teas, this was no problem.
I did this for three months and the scary number of 1.74 dropped to 1.53.
I thought this was good until I was told it needed to be 1.16.
WHAT?
So, I was given tablets.
It seems it is an inherited problem. Thanks genes.
But all is not lost.
Continue with a healthy diet but walk more, cycle more and maybe it will drop enough to reduce the dosage. Even though it is inherited. We will do a blood test every 3 months and monitor the levels.
‘Okay.’
There is hope.
I used to walk my dog every morning before breakfast in my twenties, and then again when we had a dog out here, but when she died, I took up cycling with my husband instead. It was something we could do together.
Now, I’ve added a walk before breakfast almost every day, even if we are planning on a short cycle ride later.
The first walk, I set up a Dictaphone app on my phone and thought it would be a good use of the walking time to create poems.
Here is the edited transcript from my first walk –
It’s 7.30 and I’m walking up the track behind my house between farmers fields and under the trees that line the gravel track. It's a beautiful day. And there are loads of wildflowers. The farmer hasn't cut them, and I am very appreciative. There are so many more wildflowers now the verges are left alone. There are poppies, wild roses cascading down from bushes and trees, yellow rattle, buttercups, clover, speedwell, elder flowers, dead nettles, vetch, and several others I do not know the name of.
I am hoping to use these walks to compose poems, and I am surrounded by inspiring nature. I’m going to speed up a little bit now, because the whole point of this walking is to get a bit puffed. Get the blood circulating. My lungs feel good, no sign of a wheeze so I am walking faster still.
What poem shall I compose today?
I don’t know, I should be inspired with all this nature around me, but I generally write a poem in a notepad or on my laptop. It may take my mind a little time to get used to speaking the ideas.
The poppies are pretty. I can start with them.
Red black green. Doesn't do it justice. Bees are busy dipping in. To the black centers. The red petals like paper so bright. The green it's not just one green, it's tall. Stripy shades of green…
The transcribed words were a jumble of things I saw and thought about as I walked. I have sorted them into a poem.
Poppies
Contrast of red, black, and green,
Bees busy dropping into black centers,
Like mini helicopters,
The wind from their wings flutters the petals,
Stills when they land,
Then stirs the air as they take off to the next flower,
Petals, delicate as paper and red bright,
Four petals, simple,
Their center loaded with food for pollinators.
Surrounding them is green,
Not one green, but all greens,
Stripey shades, tall and straight like railings,
There to show off the brightness of the red poppies.
But wait.
One poppy stands out.
Delicate pink with a yellow center,
Stamens thick with pollen.
It’s proud to be different,
It’s accepted in the crowd of red.
Red circles in a sea of green fronds,
Fluffy grass seed-heads tower above like the froth of a wave,
Softening the space,
A contrast to the distinct edges of perfectly formed petals.
I smile at their brightness,
Their joy in the sunshine.
Their symbolism is poignant,
Reminding me of those who gave their lives for freedom,
My freedom to walk each morning,
My freedom to live in a country I wasn’t born in,
My freedom to wear what I want,
Eat what I want,
Be who I am,
Like the pink poppy,
Thankful to be accepted,
Thankful to be alive.
I plan to continue with my talking walks, I’m not sure each day will result in a poem, or a blog post. It felt a little awkward, almost forced, to comment on what I could see when I walked, and often the walk will be the same.
I am happy with the poppy poem, and I enjoyed my walk in the sunshine and countryside.
I feel grateful for my health and hopeful it will continue.
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