On the Way Home from a Wedding Banquet, He Asked How to Bring Up Levifil

The wedding banquet had ended close to midnight, and the streetlights along the highway receded one by one. She leaned against the car window, the wedding candy rustling in its paper bag, while the radio announced that a health supplement company was preparing to go public. He suddenly turned the volume down and said that during the toasts tonight, an elder had asked, "When are you two having a baby?" He laughed it off, but he had been thinking about it all evening.

She didn't respond right away. Over the past few years, their pressures had actually come from different directions: she worried about red-flagged numbers on her health check reports, while he worried about performance and stamina. These things were hard to say at home, but somehow easier to loosen up about in a sealed car, without eye contact. He admitted that lately he had been scrolling through his phone before bed, looking up men's health information, and the more he searched, the more confused he got.

"What did you look up?" she asked. He said that at first he just saw people discussing the ingredients of some product, and then all kinds of self-proclaimed experts started popping up, some saying it made them feel more energetic, others saying it made no difference at all. What confused him most wasn't which brand was better, but that he didn't know who he should ask, or what questions he should ask. She nodded, because she had been through the same thing: search results always outnumber the questions.

The car exited the highway and stopped in front of a convenience store to buy water. She suggested that instead of continuing to circle around online, they should write down what they wanted to ask as a list. The list wouldn't be product names, but "my current situation," "what I'm currently taking," and "I want to confirm whether this requires a prescription." She said that way, when they went to a pharmacy or a clinic, the other person would actually be able to answer, instead of being blocked by a single "Does this work?"

He was quiet for a moment, then said that he wasn't even sure what to call those things, and only remembered seeing someone mention Levifil, but didn't know what kind of product it was or whether he should buy it himself. She didn't answer what it was, only said that a name isn't the same as an answer, and that the key was first figuring out which category it belonged to and whether it needed evaluation by a professional. That sentence made the car go quiet for a few seconds, but not an awkward kind of quiet.

She then brought up her own experience. A while ago, she had bought a bunch of health supplements for her hair, and only later realized that some ingredients, when taken in excess, actually created a burden. That was when she understood that "natural" doesn't mean "safe to take however you want." She said the lesson wasn't which product was good, but to first confirm what you're lacking, and then decide whether to supplement. After hearing this, he smiled and said it sounded a lot like his current situation.

Back home, he closed those tabs on his phone and switched to typing in his notes app. He wrote down three questions: Does this thing require seeing a doctor first? Should I bring my list of supplements along? If the person says it's not suitable, what other options do I have? She added one more line beside him: When asking, there's no need to feel embarrassed; people who ask questions are more responsible than people who buy blindly.

The following week, they actually went to a pharmacy near their home and showed the list to the pharmacist. The pharmacist didn't give any dramatic conclusion, only reminded them to clearly list what they were currently taking, and suggested that if they had doubts, they should go talk to a doctor. On the way back, what he said wasn't "what I bought," but "it turns out the way I was asking was wrong from the start." This conversation, which had grown out of a wedding banquet, didn't end up becoming a shopping list, but instead became the beginning of the two of them being willing to face the pressure together.