Well, there’s no denying I’ve got the arse. Last night I
got “er indoors TM” to stick her arm in my new
blood pressure machine. I won’t say what her numbers were, but I will say that according to official
figures she is rather normal, whilst I would seem to have stage
two hypertension.
It is all rather funny really; having been reasonably
healthy for years, now that I know I have high blood pressure I’m feeling all
sorts of twinges in my chest. I’m sure it is entirely psychosomatic, but it
goes to show, doesn’t it? Mind you I have no idea what it goes to show, but it
must go to show something.
According to heart.org
if the measurements carry on as they are at the moment, the quack will
probably prescribe blood pressure medication and lifestyle changes. I suppose
I’m long overdue to start on the statins; so many people that I know are on
them. And as for lifestyle changes… another diet in the first instance. More
exercise? How many four-mile dog walks can I do? But maybe this might be a way
of getting out of night
shifts?
This morning I had granola for brekkie rather than toast,
but that did nothing for my blood pressure which was slightly up on yesterday
evening’s reading.
I watched an episode of “Poldark”, then had a little
look at the Internet as I do. It was still there. Amazingly it isn’t filled
with adverts about blood pressure yet.
It was very dark and foggy as I set off to work, but having
no ice to scrape from the car was something of a result. I stopped off at the
co-op for a sandwich then headed off west-wards through the -hursts and the
-dens to Pembury. As I drove I listened
to the pundits on the radio spouting their drivel. There was quite a bit of
coverage of "Yesterday in Parliament" which spoke volumes
about our parliamentary democracy. Quite a few matters were supposedly under
discussion, but each so-called debate went the same way. Someone would make a
point, and having made that point someone else would launch a personal attack
on them. A pal of the first speaker would then slag off whoever had made that
attack, and so it continued. Not a bad way to pass your time; especially when
you're getting ninety grand a year (plus
expenses) for doing so.
There was also talk with some emeritus professor of
medicine who felt that BMI was a rather crap way to measure
obesity, as all it does is compare weight and height and according to BMI, many
top athletes would seem to be porkers. The chap then went on to say that fat
people should be on weight loss medication for life. That might be me in a week
or so.
I got to work for the early and had a chat with the boss
about blood pressure and night work. I've been referred to the occupational
health people.
I then I had a Red Alert. They are far more nerve-wracking
and far less exciting than watching Star Trek might have you believe. And if
that wasn't enough to put my blood pressure through the roof, the insurance
company phoned and said that our ongoing electrical issue isn't covered in the
policy and that we will have to pay for having the ongoing problems repaired
ourselves.
Being on an early I got out early. Being at Pembury I
didn’t get home that early. Interestingly despite a rather stressful day my
evening systolic blood pressure was fifteen wotsits less than my morning one
had been. A shame I couldn’t say the same about the diastolic, but such is
life.
“er indoors TM” boiled up fajitas
which we washed down with a bottle of merlot. Red wine is good
for your blood pressure apparently.
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