Rage Against the Machine

Turns out, I'm depressed.  And that makes me happy.

I spent the morning with my soon-to-be-leaving-for-Cali doctor, the woman who was supposed to usher me into old age.  I started with her PA, who weighed me and escorted me to the exam room where she took my blood pressure.

I fully expected it to be very high.  It always goes up a little in the doctor's office.

It was 128/78.

A little bit high, but nothing to worry about.  I laughed and wondered if I should just go right home.

When the doctor walked through the door, I opened my arms for a virtual hug; she promised that she felt the love as she asked me how I was doing. 

I told her that I was trying hard not to cry.  That I'd been trying hard since March.  That I hadn't hugged my grandkids since January and that no one thought it was a good idea for us to travel to see one another, or risk infecting one another.  We talked about extended families and Covid exposure and young families with kids.  We talked about the doctors who would take over my care, and I settled on the only one who sent a "thank you for trusting your patients to me" email in response to her referrals.  

Then we moved on to my blood pressure.  We took it with my machine on my left arm - 140/90.  We took it with my arm on the table instead of in my lap.  It was higher.  We tried it on my right arm; higher still.

She decided it was the machine.  The office device is the gold standard.  My device should go on a shelf in my bathroom, never to bother me again.

It was reminiscent of G'ma and her advice when there was an unfamiliar noise in the car:  turn up the radio.   Still hear it?  Turn it up louder.

And yet there she was, telling me Don't take your blood pressure.

She suggested upping the dosage of my Sertraline, the anti-depressant I've been taking, at the same dosage, since I was 50.  It unfurls the knot n my chest, the one that has been sitting there like a lump of clay for a long time.... certainly through the pandemic.....the one that my friendly physician decided was causing my constant headaches and my angst.  

My blood pressure is fine.  The machine says so.  I'm depressed, and that's to be expected.  The doctor and I agree.  These are troublous times and I am troubled.  Meditation and its lowering effect on my bp is a good thing to continue, but we're going to tweak the dosage just a touch, for just a while.

I'm to hand on to my smaller pills; they will come in handy when I try to go back to a lower dose once the world returns to normal.  For now, I'm to jump up to the next level, and prepare to feel a whole lot better.

I left with a big smile on my face. I don't have another condition.  I don't have to add another pill to my container.  I don't have to consider a whole new set of worries.  My body is fine. My mind is a mess.

I'm depressed, and that's good news.