An Apple a Day…

I went to the doctor last Friday for the first time in just over three years. It’s an insurance thing, as in, not having any until now. I was a little nervous, I was being treated for high blood pressure when my COBRA ran out, and I knew it had never really been under control. We waited until half an hour after my appointment (bad idea to go at the end of the day). I got in the little examination room, the nurse rolled up my sleeve and took my BP. She then took it again, to make sure. And then took it a third time, just to be absolutely sure. It was 212/140. It actually peaked once at 220/something. They took me into another room and did an EKG, the results of which appeared strange to the doctor, but he didn’t elaborate on that.

He flat out told me – “The only reason you’re getting away with this is because you are young, if you were my age, you’d be on a slab with a toe tag.” I love my doctor, he’s the same one I was seeing three years ago. He’s got a great sense of humor, and somehow he managed to say that and not make me, and Maura, who was also in the room, totally panic. Every time I repeat what he said in my head, however, I think, “Shit”, and other words I probably shouldn’t use.

They were about ready to admit me to the hospital right then and there. The only thing that stopped him was the fact the BP tends to be elevated at the doctor’s office due to nervousness, but if that’s really true, what about being nervous elsewhere? It’s still a problem. Anyway, he told me if I have any chest pains or any feeling whatsoever that somethings not right, I should go to the ER.

He put me on meds, two for the BP, one to counteract a side effect of one of the BP drugs. I bought a monitor, so I could keep track, he wants me back in two weeks with a log from various times of the day. I’ve noticed that it’s much lower in the morning, which makes sense, but the amount it rises over the day is a little disturbing. It hasn’t been as high as it was last Friday, but it’s still way too high.

I’m primarily posting this to get it out of my head. It’s not a death sentence, but it is serious. I hid the fact that I had, on occasion, had small chest pains, it’s been happening on and off for a couple years, but I didn’t want to worry anyone about it, and I didn’t want to worry about it myself. But wishing it not true – denial – doesn’t work.

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