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Panic

I'm not sure what the point of this piece is, but I'm at work with nothing to do, so we'll just do this.

I have been dealing with hypertension for a couple of decades (blame genetics). I first took notice of high readings when I was in my early 20's. It wasn't until my late 20's that I told my doctor it was time to take action, because everyone kept telling me I was in danger of stroking out if I didn't get it under control. (Imagine Rachel being proactive with her own health care? I mean, this was serious.) Just one script (no trial and error) and I was good as gold (relatively speaking).

I hate taking pills. I hate it, I hate it, I hate it. I knew I would eventually go off birth control, so that was never a huge deal. I had long since resolved that I would be on psychotropic drugs for the rest of my life, so that was slightly less of a big deal. Blood pressure medication shouldn't have been a big deal. Adding a pill or two (I eventually needed a diuretic) was really just one more 'oh, fuck, my prescription is running out.' Adding one more doctor to call shouldn't have been a big deal, but it was.

About six or seven years ago, I decided to conduct a simple experiment. (Can you guess what it was? Of course you can! You're smart!) I went off my BP meds. Lo and behold, it was not a stupid move. I was getting normal readings without the aid of pharmaceuticals. This wasn't a fluke; this was the new normal and it remained that way for a couple of years, until...one severe panic attack brought us back to our regular scheduled programming.

This all happened less than a week before we took physical ownership of our house. Excited as I was, the stress of it all was, apparently, too much to handle. Thank goodness for my new doctor, who immediately set me on the right track. Thank goodness for his generosity in doling out free samples, because my insurance wouldn't cover it (don't get me started).

I was both fine AND dandy until the second time we lost our health insurance (a long story for another day). I didn't panic as I watched the last of those purple pills dwindle. No biggie. GoodRx  has been really good to us, so far. Wait, what? There's still no generic form and the name brand costs well over $100 per month? K, Rach, don't panic. Dust off the lab coat and prepare to take notes; it's time for another experiment.

I could have just gone to see my new doctor (the old one fired me), but I didn't want to. Why can't we just take care of this naturally? My diet is at least 90% whole foods; fiber is high; fruits and veggies are plentiful; antioxidants, calcium and vitamins C and D are plentiful; refined sugar and empty carbs are limited; I've lowered my alcohol intake and cut way down on the smoking (don't say it); as far as exercise, you'll never see me at the gym, but I get plenty of it. What else, what else...I need to drink more water...what else... Aha! Omega-3's! Let's start taking fish oil and throw in garlic oil just for funsies. Yes, yes, this'll do it, boy howdy. No.

I promised Dave that I would monitor my BP for 3 weeks. If at the end of three weeks I didn't have it under control, I would call the doctor. So, three weeks later I make an appointment. Not the worst thing in the world. They only charged me $65 and GoodRx didn't charge me at all. Wonderful! Yeah? No.

I was still monitoring my BP obsessively. (It's kind of hard not to when the monitor is stationed on the coffee table.) No change. Nothing. Well, okay. Don't panic. You haven't been on it for very long. By the time that trip to Europe rolls around, you'll be golden.

Ah, Europe: our first vacation in 6 years; our first time leaving the state in 3 years; my first time leaving the country. As of this writing it's 7 days away. We've literally (I still hate that word) been counting the days since it was 224 away. Needless to say, we are as giddy as children the night before a trip to Disney World during Christmas. I can't remember the last time I was this excited. Wait a minute...

A horrible thing happens to me when something wonderful is on the horizon -- I start thinking that it's too good to be true. For the last couple of months, I started thinking that something disastrous is going to happen and we won't make it. Will there be a terrible accident? Will one of us get really sick and end up in the hospital? Dave has been having trouble breathing. Is he going to die? I don't care if the plane crashes on our way home, as long as we get there and have a good time. Can y'all see where this is going? Da fuck is wrong with me?

So, that brings us up to yesterday. I get up, do a gentle yoga routine, shower, eat a wholesome breakfast, take my meds and I'm off to work. No problems. I drive to where I normally work. No problems. I get out of the car. Problem. As I'm struggling to gather my things, I feel myself falling backwards. I catch myself, right myself and close the car door. I start falling backwards again. I catch myself, right myself and put my keys away. I start falling backwards again. I catch myself, right myself and begin my three-block walk to the spa, wondering why my vision is a little weird and I can't seem to walk a straight line. I am walking with my arms held out on either side for balance, but it doesn't keep me from swaying/stumbling all over the sidewalk. Weird. Okay. Obviously, I can't work like this. Do I turn around, walk back to the car and call in? No, that would have been sensible. Instead, I press on.

By the time I get to the spa and open the back door, I am in full-on panic mode. I am shaking; I am crying; I am holding onto the walls to keep from falling off the earth. To make a long story short [insert Clue quote], Dave picks me up, brings me home, makes me chug Gatorade and keeps me under observation for the rest of the day.

I checked my BP about seven times over the course of the whole day, watching it drop dramatically. I'ma go ahead and guess that that's what started the whole thing. Thoughts? I'm still not going to the doctor.


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