The Modern Man Gets Flushed!

One of the great things about being a modern man AND getting older is the wide variety of medicines that doctors want you to take. Some have been life savers, like prilosec, which has saved my esophagus from rupturing out acid and destroying everything in site, like a wounded Alien in those, er, Alien movies. There have been no side effects except for now being able to eat raw vegetables, which even children know can't be good for you.

But others have side effects. You know, that list of things the world's fastest talking man rushes by during those medicine commercials for things they won't tell us the medication actually cures? I can take most of these side effects, in fact, most of my relatives believe my current condition and personality is basically one giant side effect to begin with.

But flushing? I'm not talking about toilet humor here, or Flushing, where tennis players go to be heckled for a couple of weeks. No, I'm flushing like a menopausal woman right now, and gosh darn it, I'm really not that okay with that.

When your HDL's are low enough that the doctor feels you pulse to make sure you ARE alive, you know you may have to do something about it. You realize life isn't fair, as the 350 pound man next to you at the restaurant is eating piece of cow that could clog the arteries of a wookie, yet his levels are fine. He waves nicely at you as you smile at your piece of "today's white cooked fish" and you curse his family quietly under your breath. Ah, the mental flip off, it's not at good as the real thing, but it's better than nothing.

So my doctor prescribed a medicine that not only can damage your liver, but also an amount of niacin my doctor may have described in professional medical terms as "ridiculously large."

Niacin side effects, as described on bottle: Turning redder than Brezhnev.

So here I sit, after my students have screamed "Why is your face so red? Do we need to call an ambulance? What's wrong?"

ME: "I'm taking a drug that's making my face do that, so don't worry."

THEM: "My daddy got taken away by the police and sent to jail when his face was that red from the drugs he was takin'"

ME: "I meant medication?"

THEM: "Like them things baseball and football players take?"

ME: "NO! It's NIACIN!"

THEM: "Yeah, probably crystal 'niacin'."

Hence the reason that I'm hiding right now in my office. My face is the color of a tomato, if you first embarrassed that tomato and then beat it in some sort of UFC fight. No, that's not right. It's more red. It's post-caning red, for those of you who live in Singapore.

Am I just embarrassed? Am I turning into a communist? Do I need a hysterectomy? Are my child bearing years coming to an end? Can I claim myself as an alternative heat source on my taxes? What if I'm flushing while I'm flushing? These are the sorts of questions a person should never have to answer at any age, unless you are named Ann Coulter.

But excuse me, I'm feeling another flushing coming on. I need to go, the police need a temporary stop sign down at the corner.