Tag Archives: heart disease

Open arms

What can help you both build up your immune system and decrease your risk of heart disease and stress?

Hint: it’s not a pill, an exercise routine or the now ubiquitous green smoothie.

It’s the hug — that simple (and simply wonderful) one-on-one human contact between friends and loved ones.

Fantastic, huh?

Lucky for all of us, today is National Hug Day!  The holiday was established in 1986 to encourage PDA-phobic Americans to ‘reach out, reach out and touch someone.’ So now’s your chance to get out there and improve your health, your happiness and your overall state of being.

You’ll probably freak out a few people along the way, but hey — that’s just a bonus for feeling so gosh darn happy!

(See you out there.)

Thigh high

I have always bemoaned my genetic background.  Not my family per se — they are phenomenal people — but their medical DNA kinda sucks.

Cancer on one side, heart disease on the other.  I have always pictured them as loaded guns, pointed at either side of my head.  Which one will get me first?

I’ve blamed some of my physical traumas, as my blog name suggests, on my position in the family as the youngest.  The last child is the oldest egg, and as we know, the only things that get better with age are wine and men.

But most of my physical maladies can be traced directly back to one of my parents.  For example, high cholesterol from my dad, migraines from my mother.  Bad eyesight — dad’s kin.  Poor circulation — mom.  I’m sure you can do the same.

But today I learned that I owe a big ol’ thank you to my dad for my ginormous thighs.

That’s right.

Up to now, I had blamed my dad’s side of the family for my way-out-of-proportion-with-the-rest-of-my-body thighs.  Over the years, I’ve thrown quite a bit of hate at my thighs.  Done everything I can to make my thighs smaller.

And then today, I read that a study published in last month’s British Medical Journal found that both men and women with small thighs had a greater risk of developing heart disease and dying prematurely.

So, while my dad may have given me high cholesterol, at least he balanced the odds with my protective, thunder thighs.

That’s love.