Plateau Crack

“We’re going to keep an eye on your cholesterol,” the doctor said three years ago. “At 195 It’s a little toward the high side.” I frowned. I had traded my bagels with a schmear for eggs and toast when Prevention magazine claimed people who eat protein in the morning lose more weight. No amount of walking, starving or exercise made a dent. Although I never expanded, things solidified or got mushier depending on activity level. I took up walking. Sporadically.
Median level cholesterol was the only blemish on an otherwise clean bill of health, so I skipped doctors, until year three crept to its end. Gordo reminded me that he’s paying for insurance, tests and preventive measures that need taken advantage of before fiscal year’s end—ten days away.
A flurry of phone calls produced a flurry of appointments, all landing in the sacred week. After a fasting blood test, the doctor on the other end of the phone sounds concerned.
“Your cholesterol is 245.” WHAT? “I’m sending information about how to reduce it. We’ll check it again in a year. If it hasn’t changed we’ll talk about meds.”
There’s only been one change in my diet in the last six months. Eggs. I use olive oil or nonstick spray to medium-fry two eggs, skipping cheese and sausage. I toast two slices of multigrain bread no butter or spread, pile it up and eat it like a stack of pancakes. Sometimes I drink juice, I always have coffee.

Still, no one comments about my weight, othe unbreakable plateau for three years and there are no pre-diabetic indicators (thank God). So, I resolve to double check the types of fats in my snacks (Crackers have bad fats???) and nix the eggs.

The next week of mornings, standing in front of the fridge nothing sounds appealing. What do I eat now? I despise oatmeal, dislike cereal, and gave up my daily bagels for eggs and toast. Although a bowl of berries may get me through this fall, what will an oatmeal hater eat this winter?

Meanwhile, I’ve lost four pounds.