(Read the) Directions
It’s Friday. I’ve already posted twice this week, so I’ve already reached my recent average posts per week. But I feel like posting and I don’t feel like posting serious. Yeah, that’s a lousy sentence. I do that when I’m in a curmudgeonly mood, so don’t mess with me, OK? Most of my readers over the years have considered my Inner Curmudgeon funny. My wife Muri would disagree but she’s had to endure periods of time living with Older Eyes when his Inner Curmudgeon was Outer, so I can’t say that I blame her. There is nothing my Inner Curmudgeon enjoys more than pointing out, in his curmudgeonly fashion, human frailties, unless perhaps it’s pointing out MY human frailties. That’s because IC (as I like to call him when there’s a need for fewer syllables) believes that my life would be better if I let him run it. If I thought that I’d be better off living alone for the rest of my life, then he might be right, but since I’m more gregarious in my seventies, he only gets to comment occasionally.
Recently my health insurance company, the Large Impersonal Health Insurance Company, decided to try to be more personal by offering me an in-home medical examination absolutely free. Free is good, so I said yes. The examination turned out to be mostly a long series of questions with a few tests of particular issues that sometimes affect seniors. It reminded me of the assessment they did on my Dad years ago when he was about to be moved to assisted living. I wondered briefly, Could Muri be secretly sending me off Golden Acres? She claims not. My so-called examination went well except for two things … my blood pressure was a little high and I couldn’t feel it when the nurse doing the exam held a vibrating tuning fork against my toes. Loss of feeling in toes can be a result of high blood sugar and I have always had marginal numbers. I decided I would start regularly checking both my blood glucose and pressure, and also made an appointment with my doctor as the she recommended.
You promised a humorous post, you’re probably thinking … high blood pressure and high blood sugar are not laughing matters. Here’s where the human frailties come in. I bought a brand new blood pressure meter on Amazon, one of those little ones that you put on your wrist and began take my BPevery morning. 165/85. 158/95. 150/98. Higher than my Doc recoomends. When I saw him on Wednesday, he took my BP and it was OK … 130/82 … but I showed him my daily values for the last week and he upped my Lisinopril dose. Two days later … after a lovely and relaxing mini-vacation with Muri in Dana Point … when I took my own BP, it was 175/111. Yikes!! Again. 170/108. Then I noticed something on the cuff of the BP monitor. In RED. Be sure to hold the meter at the level of your heart. When I did, it came out 130/80. Shit. Oh, I knew that was good news but I also could hear my Inner Curmudgeon laughing his ass off. You idiot. After seventy years, you still don’t know enough to read the instructions. You got all worked up over nothing. It’s hard to argue with him when he’s right so I had to let him out to write this post, even though I know damn well that if I’d started reading the directions when I took the meter out of the box, he’d have said, Fifty years working in electrical engineering and you still have to read the directions for a crappy little meter. I really can’t win with him, which is why he remains Inner.
So, the good news is that my BP is OK and the good Doctor Garces told me my A1c was 6.5, which is marginal but OK. I’m back to monitoring my blood sugar and eating more carefully. So, as my good friend, Ralph, likes to say, We’ll take that as a victory … even worth taking some crap from my Inner Curmudgeon.
Have a good weekend.