Blood Pressure Rising

You know how you find a doctor that you really, really like and then she moves away?  That happened to me.  My doc told me I could follow her to her new practice, but it was in a different city and I'm just not a gifted driver.  Plus, I'm basically lazy.  

Everything changed when Suzy got bitten by a baby copperhead.  (For you snake non-phobics, the babies are the most dangerous so this was the scariest.)
    
When I saw Suzy on Memorial Day, her foot was deep purple and swollen.  We got to talking about doctors - specifically how much she liked hers - and it was then I realized that I was willing to make that drive after all.  The icing on the cake was that Suzy sees that same delightful doctor that I used to see.  So it was settled.  I called the next day and made an appointment.

The receptionist scheduled my visit for two days later at 8:00 am.  I was so excited to get in so fast that I ignored the warning sirens going off in my head.  Anyone who knows me is aware of my aversion to morning.  Because I tend to get lost easily, I would have to allow plenty of driving time, then add more for school buses.  That meant getting up during the dead of (my) night.

Two days later I dragged myself out of bed and threw myself into my vehicle. I plugged the address into my GPS.  Nothing happened.  I put in the zip code.  Nothing.  Apparently this city doesn't exist in the real world.  

Suzy had given me vague directions on how to get to the office.  I regretted only half-listening to her now but I did have the address and plenty of time, so I decided to just go.  Clarity, as it turns out, isn't one of the things I excel at when I'm sleep deprived.  A map would have been nice, too.

Weirdly, I made it to the city without incident and I even found the highway.  What I couldn't find was the 7000 block.  The numbering went from 8000 to 6000.  I was mystified.  I drove in the other direction long enough to satisfy myself that it went away from town.  Back in the right neighborhood, I kept driving slowly up and down this same stretch of busy highway, like I was Nancy Drew, girl detective, searching for a hidden driveway or some secret clue.  

After way too many passes as well as a bit of horn-honking from the impolite drivers all around me, I decided to pull off the road and call the office.  Nobody answered.  Then it clicked.  It wasn't eight o'clock yet.  I was the first appointment.  Ain't nobody gonna be answering those phones.  

I drove up and down the highway again a couple more times and then I got the inspired idea to wander down the road a bit further, even though it defies logic. (I was sleepy, not stupid.  My logical brain was functioning perfectly well, thank you very much.)  Sure enough, I stumbled onto the office.  This may be the only city in America where the blocks are numbered 8000, 6,000, 5,000 THEN 7,000.  Kudos to them!  I admire creativity wherever it is.  Frankly, I was just shocked to find it in the numeric system.  Life is full of surprises!  

I was ten minutes late.  The driving itself was stressful and the knowledge I was late added to my tension.  After I was ushered in, the first thing the nurse did was take my blood pressure with this fancy machine.  It was 138 over God- knows-what.  I was so freaked out about the 138 that I couldn't focus.  I asked the nurse to recheck it and she took it with her stethoscope so it would be more accurate.  The top number was now 130.   This was much, much higher than normal for me and I was obsessing that I might get diagnosed with hypertension.  

My doctor visit went well.  It was definitely worth the effort to get there.  As we were wrapping up our talk, my dear doc decided to give me a shingles vaccine and then she hugged me goodbye. (I love this woman!)  

I asked the nurse if she'd take my b/p again.  She said yes, she'd do it right before she gave me the shot.  I am one big bag of phobias stacked on top of another and perhaps a blood pressure reading right before a shot isn't the best timing, but I was willing to take that chance.  

The nurse left the room for about ten minutes and I took advantage of that time by doing a relaxation meditation.  I went on a quick trip to the beach.  When we both returned to the room, my blood pressure was 114/70. Yahoo!  

I got the vaccine.  They did not, however, give me a sucker.

AND there's even some exciting news from my doctor visit:  When the nurse measured my height, I was a half-an-inch taller than on my last visit.  If I keep growing at this pace, in a mere ten years my weight will finally be a perfect match for my height.

                                              *    *     *

P.S. Snakebite Suzy's much improved and grateful that she didn't need to get the anti-venom shot.  It cost six thousand dollars.  That's almost more frightening to me than the snakebite itself!  Almost.  

On Valentine's Day, With Love

You only have to spend a few minutes with Pamela and Jay to realize that they are crazy about animals.  They share their lives with a cat, two dogs and four chickens.  Whereas I'm certain that the cat and the chickens would be excellent blog subjects, this post focuses on the canines:  The Service Dog and the Pampered Pooch.

Caleb in a bow and Zoe in a Christmas gown
 

There's something special about Caleb.  At first glance you realize he's different. A beautiful animal with a white coat that looks like he just stepped out of a high-end salon, he is clearly a rare breed.  His Jindo lineage is considered a Korean National Treasure and it's more difficult for them to sneak out of their country than it is for Cubans to get to America.  And yet he found Pamela. 

Caleb is a service dog.  He is always on duty.  As much as you'd like to touch his beautiful fur, he won't let you.  He's working.  The stuff this dog does for his master is beyond amazing.  It's like he's a GPS system with ESP.  He could be the subject of a Hallmark Hall of Fame special, he's that amazing.  He actually will rouse himself from sleep to alert his Pamela that a medical crisis is imminent.  He senses this before she knows herself.  Once he even alerted Pamela that her friend was about to have an episode. This is one highly intelligent animal. 

Every male enjoys a little eye candy and that's where Zoe comes in.  Zoe is a Bichon Poodle with a fabulous sense of style.  She likes to be dressed up and after Pamela changes her outfit, she won't budge (not even for steak) until you take a series of pictures of her.  She has to see the camera flash three times.  She has three specific poses:  Standing, sitting, and coquettishly looking over her shoulder. 

While Zoe actually has a dog wardrobe full of clothes, including - but not limited to - rain wear, swimming suit and formal wear, Caleb is embarrassed to be seen in a bandanna.  Zoe, on the other hand (and I am not making this up,) will refuse to leave the house in her pajamas.

For more Zoe pics visit: Caleb Plus Zoe Nastase on Facebook

Today, let's celebrate love (and fashion sense) wherever we find it. 

Happy Valentine's Day, everyone!

Shortcuts

Ever taken a short-cut home?  Once in grade school I took one with my friend Marcia McVey.  Marcia's dad was a minister and they lived in the parsonage next to the church in the center of our tiny town. 

We walked through the school parking lot, into an alleyway then squirmed through a little hole in the fence and ended up in her backyard.  It was a cool adventure and a true shortcut -- if you were Marcia.  I, however, was not.  (She had poker-straight blonde hair that fell to the middle of her back in kindergarten.  We were only five.  How did she grow hair that long in just five years?  Even then, I remember asking myself that question.  Kind of a funny thing for a kindergartner to think about, but I was that kind of kid.

Sweet, wispy haired kid

This story is not about Marcia's hair -- although it could be, the hair was that pretty.  I mean, it's been fifty-four years since I was in kindergarten.  I'm even not sure of the spelling of her first name any more, yet I still vividly remember the hair that the girl had.  When she hung upside down on the trapeze* on the playground, her hair touched the ground.  That was a big, big thing with the kindergarten set, especially those of us with wispy hair that barely grazed our shoulders.)

*No kidding, this tiny town in Michigan had a trapeze bar on the playground.  Why?  Who knows?  But cool though, right?

Back to the shortcut story:

Not only was I not Marcia (I feel I've firmly established that by this point in my narrative) I also did not live on that side of town and so I had to walk myself all the way back around the block, pass the school, then take my normal route home.  It wasn't such a shortcut for me.  No, it was actually the opposite of a shortcut, really.  It took much, much longer to get home that day than normal and when I did get home I was in hot water.  (Duh.)

I've been feeling like I've been taking a lot of those kind of shortcuts lately,  whenever I use Jerry's old GPS, to be exact.  I swear, that GPS tries to get me to drive to Marcia's house before it takes me home every time I use it.