Fuck You Dr. Chang

Older friends of mine remember this story:

About five years ago, I stopped freelancing and landed a full-time gig. The point of this is that I suddenly had health insurance again, so I went to see a doctor for a full on physical -- the first I'd had in years. I picked a doctor at random -- proximity to my apartment was the key factor here.

Long story short, the doctor turned out to be one who catered to the Chinese community -- he had nurses who could translate and speak in fluent Cantonese, as could he. A week after my physical, Dr. Chang called me and told me over the phone that while all was generally good, my cholesterol was a bit high and I should try to stay away from fatty and fried foods.

I have always believed that my Chinese genetic heritage meant that while I would not be playing basketball in the NBA, I would never need to worry about cardiovascular disease and cholesterol. Plus, fatty foods -- cooked and coated in butter, cheese, lard and cream, with plenty of salt, pepper and seasonings -- are my life. Asking me to stop eating fried chicken or spare ribs is like suggesting I stop farting for fun. It ain't going to happen.

My reflexive and immediate reaction to Dr. Chang's call was to tell him I thought he was a quack. Since he spoke to me in Chinese, I dredged up every foul curse I'd ever heard Chow Yun Fat (coolest Asian man alive) utter in his John Woo gangster movies and every rude insult that I'd heard Jackie Chan use in his earlier kung-fu comedy flicks (though he's cleaned up his act some, Jackie's jokes and language in his earlier films were definitely not for polite company) and applied them to him. I further told him I didn't think much of his doctoring skills (he was far fatter than I was) and told him I would not be seeing him again.

Fast forward five years. I've moved to New York, and kept my devotion to fried chicken, ribs, and macaroni and cheese, as well as hand-cut fries and Scottish butter shortbread. Recently, I got my first physical since I saw Dr. Chang. My wife, who restrains her gluttonous impulses far better than I, also got a physical -- full bloodwork, etc.

And my cholesterol level? To use my new doctor's words, "A-plus, with two gold stars to boot." He further explained that while my 205 number didn't seem that impressive, it was actually the best he'd ever seen because so much of that total 205 came from HDL -- the good type of cholesterol, and so little of it from LDL -- the bad stuff. In fact, my cholesterol was so good, it even beat my wife's.

Which goes to show you that I was right all along about the virtues of bacon and sausage. And also that Dr. Chang was a goddamn fucking quack.