Today at 3:10 was my annual physical. We expected it to be pretty much standard nothing, as I see this doctor every three months for blood work (required by some of the pills I am on) and a diabetes check.
My blood pressure when I got there was 230/110.
That HAD to be a mistake, right . . . so they had me do the EKG and the breathing test and the blood draw and tried again.
With similar high results. And a pulse of 115, which scared the staff.
Now, I didn’t feel panicky or upset or speeded up. I felt normal.
I had been dreading the anticipated arguments about changing my drugs around and going to get a colonoscopy (eek), but that shouldn’t have run my BP up that much. Yes, we ate some salty foods the day before, and I had a pickle for lunch. But still! My mother’s take on it was that I need to starve myself (which is probably true) and need to quit that contest thing because I fret about not making the cut all the time. Stress can have some effect, but this was really out of whack, so we couldn’t just say “stress” and forget about it.
In fact, as soon as the doctor came into the exam room he said, “What’s up with this blood pressure?” He said that if I’d had any other suspicious symptom such as chest pain or a headache, he’d have slapped me into the hospital. As it was, I spent a while sitting around there to see if it would go down and waiting for a decision as to which “run down the BP fast” pill I needed to get.
(My mother’s blood pressure was down to normal today, though.)
So now I’ve somehow promised that I’ll take the new pills on a strict schedule (instead of whenever I get up, whenever we eat, or whenever I remember) and restrict sodium severely. And I think I should join the Medifast clinic (instead of getting the stuff by mail) and pay to attend the meetings, partly for the support. It can’t cost THAT much more than ordering by mail (considering the shipping charges!), and maybe I’ll meet someone interesting. We’ll see how much it costs.
I told the doctor I’d like to go to a psychologist to talk about my issues of using food to compensate or to suppress emotions and anger, and he agreed, but said most insurance plans no longer cover it except for the employee (not for family members). I’ll call them in the morning.
And in today’s mail there was a letter from the gas company claiming that the check we’d paid last month’s bill with had been returned. I knew better; I had paid by phone. I called the bank, and the teller said NOTHING had been returned, not even one item. Ever. She checked the past two months. So . . . either they screwed up, or I pressed the wrong key while I was paying by phone. I’ll bet that if I pressed the wrong key (and got the account number wrong), I’ll still have to pay the fees for the “returned check” (which doesn’t exist, according to the bank.) Aarghh!
It’s just nonstop fun here at Casa el Dumpo!
But anyhow . . . I go back to the doctor on Monday. The BP reading had better be way down on the new meds. And it wouldn’t hurt to lose a few pounds of water weight as well (which will happen if I don’t eat any salt, I think).
Once more into the breach!