Take a stab at it

I have a good idea about the first thing you noticed when you looked at this picture. I saw it too. The iPhone makes me look like I still have a 32-inch waist. Damn I love that phone.

The other thing you might have noticed are what look like meth-tweaker track marks on both my arms. "He really needs to stop bingeing Breaking Bad."

I have to admit when they first appeared, they actually were a pretty combination of blue, purple, yellow and green. I sort of stared at them, detached from the fact they were actually my arms. Which is better than staring at my detached arms. Word play, it's ON!

Anyway, I think it was a lot to go through for a regular blood test.

I take a couple of meds for blood pressure and cholesterol. It's a pretty common cocktail. Whenever I start talking about it I'm always surprised how many of my friends are also in the same artery clogging, systolic and diastolic boat. I mean sure, I could drop a lot of weight and I'd be off both pills. But I'd have to have much more self-discipline, will power and respect for myself and my body. That's just crazy talk.

Anyway, every six months I go in for a blood test to make sure the Lipitor isn't acting like a meat mallet pounding my liver into ground round. Just one of the lovely possible side effects of cholesterol medicine, along with short term memory loss and, wait, what was the other one?

See what I did there? I still got it.

Now I'll be the first to admit I don't have the best veins, even though I do work my guns lifting those Double-Doubles up and down. And I've had excellent blood draws in the past. Sometimes it's over before I even know it's happened—which is the case with many things in my life.

Clearly this wasn't one of those times.

One of the downsides to being me, and despite how easy I make it look there are several, is that I have no problem watching while they stick me with the needle and make the draw. I know some people can't watch, but I have to. So I had a nice view of the technician moving the needle around, trying in vain to find the vein (sorry). After what seemed like forever, she decided to try the other arm. You see how that went. But somehow she managed to get enough blood out of me.

The good news is I don't have to go through it again for another six months or so.

Until then, I'll be working on getting in better shape. And by better shape, I mean taking more pictures of myself with the iPhone.

Three class acts

You know all those problems, big and small in our lives? The ones we bitch and moan about. The ones that are so inconvenient.

Here's a little something to put them in perspective.

I have always been on team Letterman. I find his combination of intelligence, humor and compassion unique to late night television. Plus he made Paris Hilton cry, so what's not to love?

This past week his class and tact was yet again on display during an interview with quadruple amputee veteran, and double arm transplant recipient Brendan Marrocco. The respect Dave has for this young man's courage, persistence and remarkable attitude given the circumstances is tangible.

And Brendan, along with the doctor who headed up his surgical team, are nothing short of inspiring.

When I see an interview like this, I realize how very little I have to complain about in life.

It probably won't stop me from doing it, but it will make me think before I do.