Dearest Rachel –
I can’t say that I remember when I was first prescribed it, but it had to have been within the past decade; at some point after one or another company-ordered physical, I was informed that I had to go on lisinopril for high blood pressure. Not that it seemed to matter; when I mentioned it to Mohinder, he proceeded to inform me that I gave him high blood pressure due to my performance at work, and downplayed what I needed to take in order to maintain a “normal” reading. To be sure, both he and DJ were a good decade older than myself, and thus had some milage on me toward age, so they were dealing with those sorts of ailments sooner than I should have been anyway, but still…
The thing is, I can remember being dismayed about the diagnosis and the remedy for it because it wasn’t so much a solution as a palliative. Oh, the medication worked well enough – it brought my blood pressure down to a more reasonable level and all that – but it wasn’t a one-time or short-term thing. What dismayed me so much about being prescribed these pills was the fact that, as far as I could tell, I would have to be taking them from that point on for the rest of my life, just to keep myself at where I ought to be in terms of normal bodily function. In fact, I’m pretty sure I may have said as much to you about it at the time, or shortly thereafter.
Of course, the fact that you enabled me to leave that environment in a relatively short time thereafter (although at the time, it still felt excruciatingly long, I’m sorry to say) did wonders toward relieving that situation. Having that stress removed went a long way toward reducing my blood pressure, and there was some talk about the possibility of, if not dropping the prescription entirely, perhaps cutting back on the amount I was required to take on a daily basis.
What really brought me over the edge, though, was going on this regimen of losing weight, through both exercise and dietary changes; by this time last year, I was more or less able to drop the pills altogether after all. To be sure, part of this was due to the fact that I was no longer getting automatic reminders to renew my prescription, but if the doctors’ office wasn’t going to insist I do so, they must know something about my situation (although considering how rarely I bothered to go in, there’s no reason why they should, necessarily) that suggested to them that I didn’t need it after all.
As with so many of these changes I’ve made to and for myself, though, I wish you could have been around to enjoy and celebrate the fact that I could put these things behind me. Then again, there’s always the question of whether I would have been able to do these things in the first place had you remained with me; I’d had an appointment with a dietitian scheduled a week or so after the trip up to camp, and with the newfound free time together, maybe we could have pushed this onto me. It will always remain within the realm of the many what-ifs of history, a micro example as opposed to the more macro ones I hear about on various YouTube channels.
On the other hand, even as I was walking to the fitness center through another unusually chilly August morning (this time, I was up and out late enough that the sun had beaten me outdoors, and yet it was still no warmer than the low sixties, as far as I could guess. Refreshing for the trek back to the house, but not so much on my way there), it’s occurred to me that I’ve basically substituted one daily ritual for another. Rather than having to take pills for the rest of my life, I may have to work out nearly every day for that same length of time in order to stave off such requirements.
Sure, this hour or so at the gym offers other benefits, such as improving muscle tone and stamina (not as if that latter one, in particular, is good for anything, but it’s better to have than not have, I suppose), and it not only lowers blood pressure but regulates both good and bad cholesterol and keeps me moving along on this weight loss journey that I’ve put myself on (and would you believe, I finally touched 215 pounds this morning?). But at some point, I’ll no longer be able to shed pounds – if I could lose five pounds a month indefinitely, I’d disappear completely in less than four years! – and I would have to keep this regimen up just to stay where I was. That doesn’t strike me as an appealing prospect, I have to say; the one thing I enjoy about this is that fact that it gets results, however slowly. If it stopped bringing my weight down, I’d be less inclined to stick with it.
And yet, I will probably have to, just so I can maintain myself. Were I to revert to my previous indolent lifestyle, I’d probably blimp up in pretty short order, and that scares me. But I can’t say I enjoy putting myself through all this work every day. The best I can say about it is like that old joke about the flagellant who was asked why he whipped himself every day like he did, to which he replied that “it feels so good when I stop.” The rest of the day – including the effort of coming up with something to tell you about every day for the past thirteen hundred days – is so much easier in comparison.
But will I have to continue doing all of it for the rest of my life? I can’t say I’m looking forward to it.
In either case, though, please keep an eye on me, honey, and wish me luck. I’m going to need it.
Letters to Rachel 