Men's Health Magazine Online has posted the outcome of Santa's annual medical physical. The article by Dan Hurley is funny, but it makes you think, too. So, here it is.
Santa: The Physical
Chart Notes: Patient is a borderline-obese elderly male. Presents with mild rosacea in cheeks and nose. Pipe smoker, complains of occasional back pain and seasonal work stress. Alert, communicative, jolly.EPIDERMIS: Santa has a little redness from rosacea, but no visible blood vessels or bumps, no enlarged nose. In fact, it's a nose like a cherry. We do not suspect alcoholism. Santa assures us (and we believe) he drinks only a glass of wine or sherry nightly, except for the big December 26 blowout. This is good: Moderate alcohol intake lowers his risk of heart disease and Alzheimer's. Rosacea can be aggravated by wind, cold, high indoor heat, and hot beverages; Santa experiences a grand slam of triggers.
Prescription: If he cares, he should wear a scarf, keep his fire lower, and drink less hot chocolate.
MENTAL STATE: Santa's merry outlook keeps him alive. Happy, optimistic people tend to have lower blood pressure and less heart disease, and live longer than grumpy pessimists.
Prescription: Keep laughing. Santa's trademark "Ho ho ho" is strong medicine. It's estimated that 100 belly laughs gives an aerobic workout similar to 10 minutes on a rowing machine, according to Lee Berk, Dr.P.H., an assistant professor of family medicine at the University of California at Irvine. (Santa could literally laugh his rear off.)
NOCTURNAL HABITS: Staying up all night (while crossing 24 time zones) is like blowing 0.10 percent on a Breathalyzer, according to a research letter published in the Lancet. We'll trust Rudolph to keep the rig away from trees, but sleep deprivation can slow Santa down and cause him to mix up packages.
Prescription: "Santa should become a night worker 2 to 3 weeks before Christmas Eve so he gets used to staying up all night," says James B. Maas, Ph.D., author of Power Sleep. Maas does not recommend caffeine -- not even that bottle of Coke.
ADDICTIONS: Cute, the way the smoke "encircled his head like a wreath." But oral cancer ain't cute. It has the worst 5-year survival rate of all major cancers. Pipe (and cigar) smokers average four missing teeth, says a recent study in the Journal of Periodontology.
Prescription: Quit smoking. Grab a carrot from Dasher's stash, or, heck, even a candy cane, crunchy vegetables or hard candy can help conquer the cravings. And start drinking green tea, which can kill oral-cancer cells.
CARDIOVASCULAR FITNESS: Santa spends 364 days making lists and supervising toy production, then busts tail up and down chimneys for one nonstop night. Bad pattern. A sedentary person's risk of dying suddenly of a heart attack is 75 times greater during unaccustomed exertion.
Prescription: Santa would feel better--and look trimmer--if he incorporated a simple weight-lifting regimen into his long off-season. We're leaving him a copy of the Men's Health Home-Workout Bible.
COGNITIVE FUNCTION: Remembering all those names, tracking naughty-nice trends, and reading letters keep the old elf's brain nimble. Mentally stimulating activities reduce the risk of Alzheimer's by a third, according to recent research.
Prescription: Make list, check twice. Repeat as needed.
VISUAL ACUITY: The specs over his twinkling eyes are 19th-century vintage.
Prescription: Try progressive bifocals, with aspheric lenses for edge-to-edge clarity, says Marc Piccolo, O.D., of the University of Houston. Perfect for a boss who must scan lists while keeping an eye on the workshop floor.
SPINAL COLUMN: Santa heaves a heavy sack onto his back several million times in one night. No wonder he feels a twinge. The over-the-shoulder move tilts and twists his back.
Prescription: Carry smaller loads--one-seventh of your ideal body weight is good, says Rey Bosita, M.D., of the Texas Back Institute. Have the elves refit Santa's sack by adapting the double straps found on golf bags.
ADIPOSE TISSUE: Even a "little round belly" is a heart-disease warning, and obese people have a risk of death nearly two times that of skinny ones.
Prescription: Santa starts exercising, and we start leaving healthier cookies and fat-free milk, instead of whole milk and Mom's Crisco-laced trans-fat bombs. We like Newman's Own organic cinnamon-graham alphabet cookies; spelling "HI SANTA" costs only 84 calories and 2 grams of fat.
EXTREMITIES: Santa complains of sensitivity to cold in fingers and toes, suggesting a previous bout with frostbite.
Prescription: To improve circulation, he should get rid of the tight leather boots (post those on eBay and stand back). We recommend U.S. Army "Mickey Mouse" boots, a.k.a. bunny boots. Ken Zafren, M.D., a member of the Wilderness Medical Society in Alaska (not far from you, Nick!), says their thick soles and air insulation (pumped through a valve) make them the extreme-cold choice. Only $50 at military-surplus stores.Frostbite treatment: Take aspirin to improve circulation, and rewarm slowly: Stick the feet or hands in the armpits or groin of a friendly elf.
HOME ENVIRONMENT: Santa's support system of elves, reindeer, and Mrs. Claus is a big, warm plus. Men who are married, live with someone, or have other close social contacts are at lower risk of heart disease and are twice as likely to survive a heart attack as men who live alone. Having pets--that would include Donder, Blitzen, et al.--lowers blood pressure and helps prevent depression. And federal studies found that jobs marked by a high degree of autonomy, satisfaction, and prestige decrease the risk of illness.
Let's face it: The old guy is going to outlive us all.