What, Me Worry?

I’m not really complaining, I just saying…

Josie’s right; one of the worst things about getting older is how much time we have to spend seeing doctors. Now, it’s not that I have anything against doctors; some of our best friends are medical practitioners. It’s just that all this focus on our bodies leaves little time to develop our souls.

It doesn’t help that all of our doctors are over an hour’s drive each way. We do try to make it more pleasant by stopping for a meal either on the way there or the way back. Sometimes, we do a little shopping, and we’re considering taking in a movie on our next medical excursion.

We had a pleasant enough visit with the primary care doctor that we visited, but we know that good bedside manner doesn’t always translate to competent care. I hope that we won’t have a need to find out how competent he is anytime soon, but we do have someone to call next time we’re in need.

This should have been very calming news, so why did I end up at my cardiologist the next day with high blood pressure? I just had my annual visit with my gynecologist less than a week before, and my blood pressure was normal.

Could it have been all the thoughts of New Orleans that put me into such a state? Or did I really get that excited over the pressure cooker soup project? Maybe it was the anticipation of Richard’s first foray into bread making…
Whatever it was, it changed our rhythm for the day. Rather than cocooning with Jack’s stories, we were once again running the roads.

The cardiology triage nurse and nurse practitioner were both very cautious, which I certainly appreciate. In making the decision to bring me in, they took into account the length of time since my last appointment, the winter weather heading into our area, the length of time it takes us to make the drive, and the proximity of my call to the week-end.

Now, I’m officially an old person. I’m on beta blockers for a racing heart and blood pressure regulator to keep me from feeling like a pressure cooker about to explode. And I have to take another road trip to the cardiologist’s office in another week.

Richard is insisting that I take it easy until my blood pressure medication kicks in. This won’t be difficult to do if we get iced in again. All of this medical muck and winter storm mud is certainly slowing my life down. I can either keep straining at the bit or go with the flow. God certainly has His ways of showing me whose boss.

He even sent our firewood provider to make sure we had enough firewood for the coming storm the night before my blood pressure episode. With a pot full of soup, an oven full of bread, and a fire in the fireplace, what’s to worry about?