I met my cardiologist today. Nice guy.
The good news is my blood pressure is down. The bad news is that it’s not down very much.
The doc doesn’t think I am at significant risk for having heart disease. But he still wants me to have a stress test, which involves setting off teeny tiny nuclear bombs off in my bloodstream to see how my heart handles the pressure.
He also said, wait for it…that…I need to….LOSE WEIGHT.
I know, I know. Color me stunned, too.
He was really nice about it. But I need to drop some serious poundage. Which is why I am here writing this blog entry instead of down in my kitchen baking up a batch of cookies.
He also said I need to reduce stress in my life. Which is another reason I am writing this blog entry, because this is like therapy to me.
Believe it or not, I think I can drop the weight easier than I can reduce the stress in my life. I am genetically predisposed to worry. And right now, it’s the holidays, and I am mad busy at work, and my in-laws are coming, and…
Shit. I need a drink. And some cookies.
Glad your BP is down!
I am right there with you in the genetically predisposed worry-wart syndrome.