Pressure Release

Dearest Rachel –

I honestly thought that Lars would be more pleased when I told him.

Oh, he was pleased enough to hear that I’d finally managed to drop below 250 and stay there for more than a twenty-four hour period (although I warned him that I’d probably bob up above it again the next time I’d be likely to check – which did in fact happen when I got home and took a shower after we’d had lunch together – but he was unfazed by that, insisting that I was ‘on the right track,’ regardless). Of course, he reminded me that I still had a ways to go to reach my (let alone his, since it’s another ten pounds below my initially stated hope of reaching 230. You know, I might as well put down a stretch goal of 180 – which is what I weighed at the time I first met you – while I’m at it, I suppose, for all the likelihood of making it there) goal for myself, but that every psychological barrier needed to be celebrated.

And I get it; as trivial as all of this is in comparison to eternity, one has to celebrate as many of the little joys of life while we can. It also helps that whatever denial I put myself through is actually getting results – well, at least in terms of actually being able to see a reduction in my weight and waistline. Whether I’ll actually see results in terms of appealing to any Megumi or Megumi-wannabe remains to be seen. Thus far, there hasn’t been a whole lot happening on that front, despite his inquiries every week when we get together to walk through Harms Woods.

But that’s rather beside the point, as I’m dealing with so many little battles here and there along the way. Winning the war, if you’ll pardon the extended metaphor, is a long way off, no matter how you look at it, and I shouldn’t try to overextend my forces in the meantime.

Besides, while there are moments when I find myself overcome with a desperate sense of need for someone to take your place in my life (and at the moment, I actually feel a little strange admitting that to you, despite the fact that I know you’ve heard it from me so many times before already), for the time being, I’m actually not there right now, and I don’t know why. Maybe it’s because my attention is directed elsewhere.

And with that being said…

***

I mentioned to you last week that I’d run out of both of my prescribed medications. Now, I didn’t deliberately give them up; I just stopped getting automatic renewal notices, and I don’t know how to get that process started again (apart from going back to my doctor, who I’ve already seen earlier this year, and I’ve really no great desire to repeat the experience). So it’s not a case of turning my back on Big Pharma, or anything along those lines (although if it had been, Daniel would be most approving of my decision, if he knew); rather, quite the opposite, it would seem. I’d even managed to get an over-the-counter (but same dosage) of the heartburn medication at Costco, but the blood pressure meds? Can’t find them.

But Lars had been talking for some time about how, if I were to lose a sufficient amount of weight, I should be able to wean myself off of both of them (although, considering my experience last year, I wasn’t as keen about dropping the omeprazole; hence, why I sought it out at the warehouse club). And since I’d been making some progress on that front, I assumed he’d be pleased that, while I hadn’t exactly meant to, I was now going cold turkey.

He was not.

Admittedly, he was rather baffled as to why my renewal notices had simply dried up without warning – and I’m not sure if he was more amused or concerned about the fact that the last ‘renewal’ I picked up from the pharmacy turned out to be nothing more than several boxes of free Covid tests, much to my surprise, as I’d been expecting my usual pills. Then again, I admitted I have yet to delve into the contents of the bag, so there might be pill bottles in there as well (although the shape of its contents didn’t suggest so, and I don’t recall being charged for them, which, if they were there, I should have been), and I would have to check – not that I have yet.

Still, he made it abundantly clear that I shouldn’t have done that, and that I needed to check to see whether my blood pressure hadn’t gone up in the intervening period. He looked up a pharmacy near the restaurant we were lunching at, and we left rather earlier than we usually would.

I think he was expecting there to be a place where one could sit down, wrap a cuff around one’s arm, and get one’s blood pressure tested onsite. And to be fair, I remember when places used to have such conveniences – in fact, I’m pretty sure there was one in our local grocery store (which, to be fair, had a pharmacy section in the rear corner). But that sort of thing went away with the pandemic. So, while the pharmacy clerk offered the opportunity for me to get my blood pressure tested, the fact that he brought out a medical release and consent form was enough to cause Lars to balk.

“There’s got to be an easier way…” Not sure about that anymore in a retail setting, Lars.

Anyway, I followed him to his place, which I’ve never been to before (so I guess now the two of us are even). He had an office set up in his basement; more like my setup than like a actual physician’s office, but it had all the accoutrements necessary – and, as all I was in need of was a blood pressure monitor, the fact that he had several of those was more than sufficient.

The result? Three different readings, each between 115 and 125 systolic (the top number) and 75 to 85 diastolic (bottom number). Considering that I’d been off the meds for at least a week – and taking them for nearly seven years – I think he was expecting to see at least 140 over 100 – which, to be honest, was probably as high as it ever got before I was prescribed them.

Now, he was pleased.

Amusingly enough, after taking his own blood pressure, he was displaying numbers more like the ones I’d had when I was originally prescribed. He murmured something about how he hadn’t been feeling all that great after lunch – he doesn’t react well to fried foods, and while the french fries we’d had were tasty, he admitted he shouldn’t have had as many as he did – and certain other stressors in his life, which we’ve talked about many a time on our walks, but those aren’t my stories to tell, and I’d probably get them wrong in any event. Still, it was mildly amusing to be in (somewhat – I still have a number of pounds on him) better health than ‘my’ doctor.

The long and short of it is, I have his blessing to set aside those medications, and not go out of my way to get them renewed. Just think, I thought I’d be stuck on them for the rest of my life… although, as far as you were concerned, I was.

I still wish you could be here to appreciate and celebrate these little improvements with me, but that’s all I can say on the subject. Maybe someone else will reap the benefits of these upgrades some day. Until then, keep an eye on me, and wish me luck. I’m going to need it.