Today was not one of my better days. You know how some days you just wake up feeling lousy ? Well, that was today. I'm having a wonderful summer in MI and I am super happy to be here. My only concern when I am up here is, "What if I get sick?". Being a border line hypochondriac I am forever second guessing every little ache and pain and twinge. I could easily convince myself I am dying of cancer because I have a hang nail. I am my father's daughter. My dad would be at the doctor for the slightest thing but I guess he was on to something because he lived to be 97. When I think about how he lived I feel totally justified with my health concerns.
Last summer I was not happy to be in MI away from my home. It was the first summer I was away for such a long length of time and with the Corona virus raging across our country I was sure I was going to die in Michigan far, far away from my family. I did a lot of praying and God, being as good as He is, heard my prayers and kept me healthy and safe so I could return to FL in October.
This year I was actually looking forward to spending some wonderful cool months away from the Florida heat. The fact that my daughter and her family are renting an RV in Chicago and traveling up this way for a visit to the amazing wonders of the UP is making my summer all the more pleasant.
EXCEPT . . . I had myself dead and buried by this morning. I was once again talking to God asking him to not let me die in Michigan. I am supposed to take my blood pressure a couple of times a week because I have an issue with a valve in my heart. My doctor tells me I am fine but I should monitor my pressure. It has been at least two weeks since I last took my blood pressure so last night I figured I should sit down and see how I was doing. I didn't feel "sick" or dizzy or weak or any of the other 42 things that doctors always ask when you go to see them. In fact I was actually feeling pretty good. Until I took my BP. I will just say that it was NOT good. I am told that the ideal BP is something around 120/80. Those numbers were not the numbers that were coming up on my little machine. MY numbers were more like 170/90. That was all I needed to see . . . suddenly I began to feel ill. My dad used to do the same thing, take his blood pressure and if it was elevated he got himself upset which in turn made his BP go higher. I made fun of him on several occasions and now it is coming back to bite me in my butt. I must have woken up at least three times during the night being worried that I was about to die. I got up, wandered to the bathroom and did a quick assessment of my physical state. On all three occasions I felt great so I returned to sleep each time fully expecting to be fine in the morning. Only I didn't feel fine. My brain had taken over so even if I was fine I knew I was dying. Taking my BP didn't help because the numbers were still elevated so I called my MI doctor. I was delighted to get an appointment for 1:00 today. Just knowing I was going to talk to a doctor made me feel a little better. Of course my brain was still on high alert, constantly thinking about what each and every body part was feeling at any given moment. But all I had to do was survive a couple of hours until I could see the doctor !
I walked out into the kitchen where The Man was perched in his favorite spot and told him I was concerned about my blood pressure so I had an appointment with the doctor for 1:00. (Last night he was sitting here while I was taking my BP and getting myself worked up into a state of panic. He really didn't have too much input which is probably a smart move on his part. He has learned quickly to just let me run with what ever is in my head.) So when I told him what I was doing today his first thought was to say, "OH Good! On the way into town we can . . . . . . . . . . " I think I must have looked at him like he had seven heads. I mean, doesn't he know I'm dying here ? I'm about to have "The Big One" and drop dead on the floor and he has me driving the RV into town while he follows. We had to stop at the gas station first so I could fill up the RV's gas tank so we would make it into town. We then dropped the RV off at the brake shop and continued into town where The Man stopped to get himself a burger before dropping me at the doctor's office. I should have realized that if I could climb in and out of the RV three times without dropping dead I must be fine.
I felt better mentally after talking with the doctor. She increased one of my heart medications and gave me some things to try to help get my BP to come down. I will see her again in a week. But this time I am not telling The Man so I can just go by myself.
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