A conversation that made me cry.
Nathan wanted to go on a car ride with me last night. In addition to being in the “me too” phase, he’s started his “Why?” stage early, so of course he wanted to know why we were taking an evening car ride in the first place.
“Well, son, we have to go to the drug store.”
“Why?”
“Because I have to pick up my medicine.”
“Why?”
“Because I need to take it tomorrow.”
“Why?”
“Because it makes me feel better.”
“Why?”
“Because daddy has a bad heart.”
“Me too.”
“Yes, son. Probably.”
Nathan turned two in January. At his two-year checkup, the doctor decided that, given my heart history, we should check his cholesterol so we’d have a baseline reading for him.
He has a total cholesterol level of 202. A two year-old with cholesterol of over two fucking hundred.
And, of course, it’s not because we feed him over-processed shit like Kid Cuisine. I don’t think he’s ever had one of those (at least not in our house). He eats what we eat, and what we eat is mindful of my cholesterol levels. He’s not a fat kid. He gets plenty of active play. He’s just like me… screwed by his own genetics.
I told my doctor about Nathan yesterday. He was understandably shocked.
“So, what do they say that you do for a kid that young with high cholesterol?” He asked.
At this point, we don’t know. We’re taking him to an endocrinologist at Children’s Mercy in March.
Poor kid. Ever since we found out about his cholesterol I’ve been a little depressed. That conversation was just a bit too much for me last night.