Today was my annual physical. “Annual” in the sense that, about every two or three years I remember to do it.
According to the CDC and my nurse practitioner, Whooping Cough is making a resurgence. Vaccination wears off after a few years, you see. And if the whole population is vaccinated that’s just fine because no-one can spread it. However. Due to the anti-vaccination crowd, a number of infants are coming down with pertussis, aka whooping cough. A handful have died nationally. And these infants can spread the disease to their once-vaccinated-but-now-vulnerable adult companions. If you can’t afford to be sick for six months this year, stop by your doctor or clinic and get a T-DaP booster, mmkay?
In other news, I’m going to have to learn to cook.
My blood pressure just crept up to the “you need to watch your salt” level. I already have the “exercise 3-5 times a week” and the “eat 6-10 servings of fruits and vegetables” portions down. But I detest cooking. So I eat a ton of pre-packaged stuff.
Umm. I just got label shock in my kitchen. Everything I eat is full of added salt.
Okay, this isn’t actually news to me. I’ve known in a sort of vague way that pre-packaged food is full of salt. It just wasn’t particularly relevant to me until now. Now I am goggling at the 560 mg of salt in a can of black beans. Jeebus. So I made a perfectly healthy low-salt lunch that tasted like nothing at all. Blea.
Between this, and the hours I keep, and the fact that McDonalds’ breakfasts are off the list, and the fact that the cafeteria at work is intensely dissatisfying, I can sense cooking looming on the horizon.
Cooking. I could be doing something else with that time, dangit.