I visited my neurologist/physiatrist yesterday for my four-month follow-up. Four months ago she recommended I join the Thrive medical fitness program with the hospital network. I met with her in November to discuss how I could move forward with exercise and strength training; I was scared that I would hurt myself working out alone.
According to her records, I lost six pounds! She was very happy to hear about and see for herself the gains I’d made in my strength. She reminded me that I was still “young enough” to keep making gains, whereas at a certain point the aging process makes it so that all we can do is maintain our strength.
I told her about my bumpy February, complete with several unexplained falls. She has some concerns about this, concerns that are mitigated by my fall-free March. I told her my theory that the change of seasons and sinus “stuff” might impact my balance– referring to my serious falls of March 2023– and reporting that I had not resumed taking my allergy medicine after a winter hiatus.
There are some other signs, some dealing with episodic urge incontinence and a recent bout of constipation, the strange weakness and sensations in my fingers, and my typical hyperreflexia that could suggest an issue with my spinal cord in my neck. So if anything changes or becomes more persistent, I have to let her know immediately and not “downplay” it. She referred to me as one of those patients who is “a trooper” and just keeps going.
So she wrote in my after visit summary as my main instruction to “make good decisions.”
How many of us could curtail a lot of our health problems if we followed that advice?
My next steps will be to focus on working out and continuing my progress with strength training and weight loss, reduce caffeine intake, and improve my cardiofitness. My next appointment is scheduled for the day after my cardiologist appointment, so hopefully I will have some positive trends to report to both of them.
My neurologist also made me promise that when I get my service dog, she gets to meet him/her sooner rather than later.
About three years ago, Eva– my daughter, in the beginning of her career as a pet caregiver and dog trainer– said she wanted to train me a service dog. She wanted something to babysit me once she left home or when I was home alone.
She showed me some videos and I did some research and thought she had a point. When she leaves home, I will be a 50-something woman living alone with a history of falls and accidents. The presence of a dog in my life would keep me active and prevent spasticity issues, improve my gait as a dog’s gait never falters, and perform small tasks like bringing me my phone or picking items off the floor.
I have no doubt that with the right puppy and the time, Eva could train a service dog. But I suggested that for our first experience in the realm of service dogs, we should apply to an official service dog program.
Working with a program would teach us how the dogs are trained, give us support, guarantee good breeding and the physical fitness of the dog, and have some added legitimacy should people question my dog’s work.
Now there are no rules that prevent individuals from training their own service dogs. I think this is why one can encounter a variety of “fake” service dogs doing public access work. [I saw two service animals in the same restaurant this week. One looked like a well-trained Labradoodle with a handler who wasn’t cognizant of her surroundings. The Labradoodle was lying across the main floor area of the restaurant and not tucked under a table. The second was a small dog, perhaps some sort of schnauzer who barked and begged and whined and scratched at its owner’s leg for food the entire time. So, either that handler was having a medical emergency and the dog’s alerts were being ignored or the dog was not properly trained. A working dog should not make noise in public and it should not be distracted by food.]
I understand that training a dog with an agency or a professional trainer is expensive, but people who insist on using dogs for public access that are not properly trained make life harder for those people who have working dogs that don’t misbehave. Improperly trained dogs with public access are the dogs more prone to cause an incident with another dog.
And once I pay for my dog– which will take ALL of my savings– if that dog is attacked or threatened while working in public, that could impact its ability to do its job in the future. My dog might become afraid and unable to focus on its job. So I will have invested all of my money in a dog that won’t leave the house.
In the United States, there are no rules or governing agencies that regulate service dogs. There are, however, rules about what people can ask to a handler of a service dog– Does this dog do work that mitigates your disability? What tasks does the dog do? That’s it.
I have chronicled my service dog adventures on this blog. Here are most of the entries. (I am also working on a disability memoir.) There’s a lot to the process. My dog will be a light mobility dog.
They say the average placement takes four years start-to-finish. We filled out the application with Susquehanna Service Dogs in Summer 2022. I went to their facility and had an interview, fill out a survey of my life and health every six months, did an assessment while working with a dog where they recorded me, brought Eva with me to do public access work in a mall, passed a home visit, collaborated with a case worker to develop a plan of what my dog would actually need to do, and now yesterday, I went back to the facility with Eva for a balance assessment.
They had a mobility professional join us– I believe she was a physical therapist– and I worked with the dog and showed them how I get up off the floor and answered questions about my life and recent fall history. I love when Eva can come because she can tell them her insights. Apparently, she was annoyed because physically I was having a good day yesterday.
I worked with Captain. What we learned was that my dog will need to walk on my right. The dogs are trained to walk on the left, but when the dog is on my left I struggle to walk in a straight line. When the dog is on my right, my posture and ambulation is much more natural.
We also decided that my dog will be guided by a leash, versus a strap or a mobility harness. A mobility harness is rigid and has the most feedback between human and dog. In the photos, I am using a red strap on the far right. The strap was okay, and it’s an intermediary step between the harness and the leash, but it didn’t feel natural. (And the benefit of using leash only is that it gives the dog more freedom and space to get out of the way when I fall. Some dogs are trained to do things when a handler starts to fall, but I want my dog out of the way.)
It also seems like I’m at the proper place in the timeline. The next step: When they have a group of dogs that are flexible enough to work on the right and the right size to work with me, I will get to meet them. It might take a few meetings to find the right dog. Once the right dog is selected and assigned, I believe they will do any specialized training while boarding on site and then I go to their facility for a three-week training session.
The dog itself has to be two-years-old and fully grown and cleared by a veterinarian before entering the work force. Moibility dogs have some of the hardest and most physical jobs out there for service dogs.
Monday is my last session as part of the Thrive medical fitness program at St. Luke’s. Working with the trainers in the program has reminded me of some hard truths– and the part that’s hard is the reality of your own habits and thinking patterns.
The numbers show some nice progress. I lost four pounds of fat and gained one pound of muscle. (And had I eaten better imagine what those numbers could have been.) My blood pressure according to their records has stayed the same, but based on my home readings has gone down and requires less medication. The strength-based tests– well, I kicked butt.
I certainly feel better, and stronger, though I still have work to do on my cardiofitness. That won’t really improve until I commit to more cardiovascular exercise, even if it is just walks around the neighborhood. I would love to return to riding my bike again, but there’s a fear factor there. It’s an activity I don’t want to do alone, which is also true of walking.
But here are the lessons:
When my body hurts and locks up, strength-training stretches all those muscles and gets rid of the pain.
I can only lose about a pound a week if I eat well and exercise at least three times a week. Diet alone won’t do it. And my food choices don’t have to be perfect but they have to be solid.
Salt is my nemesis. Too little and I experience orthostatic hypotension and lightheadedness, too much and I end up with as much as five pounds water weight.
I must be choosy about my fast food. Domino’s or Little Caesars pizza will put me in a coma, and I will sleep so well, but the impact will show on my heart rate, blood pressure and weight. Wing Stop has no benefits, only the effects of the salt. I now keep various processed chicken products in the freezer because while they are not a wholesome choice, I can make my own sauces to replicate Wing Stop and save the truly detrimental health effects. Taco Bell in small doses can be tolerated, and I usually get a cheap box deal and make the items all vegetarian. It adds some extra fiber and vegetable matter to the mix.
And out of all the fast food chains– I can navigate the menu at Chick-Fil-A and not notice any real impact. Their fruit cup and kale crunch salad, especially when paired with grilled nuggets, are solid choices. They also have a chicken (or vegetarian) cool wrap, which, while it is calorie dense, is easy and quick to eat– with a good portion of lettuce and cabbage. (Yes, they also have amazing salads, but those big salads are realistically three portions. That’s a lot of salad and chicken. A lot.)
Do I have the discipline to not only continue but improve upon this progress? I don’t know. Honestly. IF I made a commitment to meal planning and cooking, I could. But with money and time always an issue, I don’t know. With stress leading me to seek comfort in my favorite foods– did you know they have Sour Patch Kid Jelly Beans? Eva says they flipped Sour Patch Kids inside out… With fatigue influencing my choices– caffeine and sugary carbohydrates, anyone?
Will I get up in the morning, drink a glass of water, and commit to some sort of exercise in my home gym?
Lately, I’ve felt like nothing about my life is out-of-the-ordinary or interesting. Maybe that’s true, maybe it’s not.
But this week has been a humdinger. On Monday night, I came home from my supplementary part-time job (because as I’ve heard other people phrase it, “Winter is a hard time for small business” and I found what I think might be an awesome 10-hour-a-week job for me– if my body can handle it). I took a few Tylenol PM because my body was aching and I hadn’t used that particular medication in a long time. But, it’s spring kinda-sorta, and I haven’t been consistent with any antihistamines so I choked on the damn pills because of the allergy-related mucus.
Now, that’s not the end of the world, except I managed to recoil away from the bathroom sink and hit my face on the wooden shelf we use as a cabinet. I hit right along the cheekbone and it hurt like heck and managed to leave a narrow bruise almost parallel to my nose.
Now– some update/backstory as I move forward here– I am two months in to my three-month program at St. Luke’s medical fitness program Thrive. I have worked with several of the trainers (Alex, Claudia, Jim) and I can feel a difference since I returned to the gym. And this week I trained with Alex after several weeks primarily with Jim and Alex noticed I needed to up a bunch of my weights and he’s looking into changing my program.
Jim taught me some stretches for my IT band, because I’ve been having some new issues with spasms in that region, and my chiropractor had determined during our visit Wednesday that I had locked up my right knee. That’s totally new.
My blood pressure and heart rate has been weird. My heartrate has been high at random periods and at one point on Monday it dropped from 120 to 60 and went back up to 130 which could be a sign of afib. And then my blood pressure would come in at 120/65, which normally my blood pressure is 115/70 or 95/65 and now it’s blending the two.
I really have the feeling that to keep my weight and blood pressure under control I have to be very meticulous about what I eat. I am still struggling with that same five pounds. If I do my strength training and my workouts, walk at least 5,000 steps a day, and eat what a lot of people would call “clean” foods, I can lose weight and keep my blood pressure low (with an occasional salty snack when it dips too low). But even if I skip a workout, the weight comes back. It got so frustrating– that nothing ever changes– that I stopped tracking in my fancy fitness journal. And if I’m discouraged now, what happens in April when my program ends?
Thursday evening I had another great workout with Alex. I was mentioning that it had been almost two years to the day since I had my afib incident. I’m really starting to wonder if the change in the weather, and allergies, has something more to do with all this.
Thursday night I came home, showered, and went to bed, only to discover that one of the household cats was in my room and did not want to be. So I got up to let her out. And when I turned to get back into bed I don’t know if I tripped over something or if I misjudged where the space was to walk, but I fell.
Onto a stainless steel litter box.
Hard.
I took a photo of the bruise on the back of my knee today (it’s Sunday) and it’s blurry because it’s at a strange angle. I have another on my arm, that one’s less vivid but bigger.
On Friday, I did a lot of work for Parisian Phoenix Publishing and even agreed to pick up some extra hours Saturday night at the part-time job. Then, I had a really nice business meeting to brainstorm some strategy for 2025 and that included a beer and some wings (and some really yummy thin Triscuits. I had never had thin Triscuits before).
But then Saturday, I woke up with some sort of gastrointestinal issue. It didn’t seem severe enough to be a stomach bug, but I couldn’t come up with any food items that would have given me food poisoning. So I found someone to cover my shift and slept most of the day (and read Fourth Wing when I was awake).
Because I barely moved yesterday my body is painfully protesting walking. My lower body muscles don’t receive messages from my brain like they are supposed to, that’s due to the cerebral palsy. When I have a lazy day like I did yesterday, my legs literally forget what to do. There will be stretching today.
And it’s interesting that I think spring might have something to do with the stuff that keeps happening in March– because March is Cerebral Palsy Awareness Month.
I have completed SIX workouts as part of the St. Luke’s Thrive medical fitness program with trainer Alex who will be starting his Ph.D. program in physical therapy this summer. I have attended and completed one boot camp workout at Apex Training, the gym where I trained regularly from Summer 2020 to March 2024.
I have tried to start taking my supplements again: multivitamin, calcium + D, iron, and zinc. I have increased my daily step goal AND my dosages of my muscle relaxer.
Hopefully soon I will start using my home gym, see some consistent weight loss, and start taking the dog for a walk regularly.
And now, for the past week, I have struggled to keep my blood pressure UP.
I met Alex at the gym today for a 7 a.m. workout. He had the early shift so he started at 5 a.m. and I had my butt on the treadmill by 6:45 a.m. We did a pull workout today. I didn’t have as much flexibility as I do later in the day but for the first time in a week I am looser and more mobile after the workout. Typically, I am sore and achy and want to sleep for a week.
The push workouts hit me harder than the pull workouts.
Alex thinks we’ve hit the muscle memory plateau– he’s commented during my last couple workouts that I have jumped weights amazingly fast, that he has never seen someone progress that quickly. I tried to warn him, but I guess seeing it with his own eyes still impressed him. But now we’re getting in the neighborhood of my old weights and he’s seeing me struggle more.
It’s a riot that I can do bicep curls with 15 pounds on each arm but I’ll want to cry if I have to walk across the room with a resistance band around my thighs. Ah, the dichotomy of diplegia spastic cerebral palsy.
But I have also noticed that A. There is a lot of people hanging out at the gym early in the morning and B. There are some old ladies lifting HEAVY weights. Good for them! Go, Ladies!
I’m thinking more and more about long-term habits and choices and how I will keep myself engaged.
My hope for the new year was to finish the book A People’s Guide to Publishing and use it as a guide for making goals for the publishing company for 2025 and to maybe, perhaps, finally finish my business plan.
With the ailment I inherited from the college student, I didn’t do nearly as much I had hoped over the holiday season, except for reading light fare like Blubber and binging old movies (Practical Magic, The Dream Team, A League of Their Own).
This year has been challenging– even with my attempts to get my act together– I am still where I was six months ago when I joined the Omada program.
But with my colonoscopy which happened December 30, and getting cleared for the Thrive Medical Fitness program at St. Luke’s Hospital Dec. 27, with my first workout scheduled for Jan. 1, I literally had a clean start.
A new year. A clean colon.
And then the dog ate a lot of the leftover Christmas cookies.
So now I won’t be tempted to eat them.
Back to the gym
Wednesday’s exercises
I did my first workout with Alex at the St. Luke’s Sports and Performance Center at the Anderson Campus on Wednesday morning at 8 a.m. That was the “push” workout. The exercises reminded me a lot of the workouts Andrew and I did together at Apex Training. When I told Andrew about it later, he remarked, “the basics always work.”
I survived the workout well, and the next day my chest muscles in the area of my shoulders and armpits reminded me that I had exercised the day before. Alex has me using the treadmill for 15 minutes, with the goal of getting my heart rate to 120-130. It’s embarrassing how challenging the treadmill can be for me, all that walking fast and making sure my feet do the right things. I so envy the people who don’t have to hold on for dear life.
Friday’s exercises
Today we did the “pull” workout. I even brought an earphone so I could listen to a podcast on my treadmill walk. The fifteen-minute walk allows me to cover a half-mile. I know that’s rather pitiful, but we all start somewhere. Alex is learning that I can handle a lot more weight than he suspects when it comes to upper body exercises, and like Andrew, he loves to make that sadistic little statement of “looks like that was too easy.”
Alex wanted to see me four times a week, but he’s only at the Anderson Campus one day next week. So, I asked, where he would be. And he said Phillipsburg. And if you know me, you know I know Phillipsburg.
He looked surprised if I could come to Phillipsburg and I asked if that were okay or if it were too stalkerish… I’m literally in the middle of the two facilities.
I’ll be seeing him in Phillipsbug on Tuesday and Thursday afternoon and then on Friday afternoon in Bethlehem Township. We scheduled all that when I saw him Wednesday, and today he said he was very excited to see me in Phillipsburg next week because that’s the gym he spends the most time in and it’s less cluttered.
When I left the hospital today, everything hurt. But I was proud.
Functional Fitness
My dear friend Thurston has been writing about what he calls “crisis conditioning” and functional aging as part of his Phulasso Living newsletter. (Read more about that in his own words here.) After a traumatic and severe leg break in Autumn 2023, he experienced his own fitness challenges. As an active guy, and a strong “in-shape” kind of guy, I think it surprised him how much energy and muscle power it took to have a mobility issue like his broken leg. He had to rely on mobility aids to get around his house (after weeks in bed) and I remember him commenting to me about how his strength did not guarantee that he had the upper body strength to support his own body weight.
The world suddenly looks very different when you face a flight of stairs with a pair of crutches or worse– a walker.
Thurston’s career has focused on safety and emergency preparedness. I think his accident may have changed his view on how much he can trust his own body, or perhaps how much he can take his body for granted, because in some ways, aging is a crisis event. Aging makes it harder to recover from injuries and from workouts. Aging makes it harder to maintain and even harder to build muscle.
But I have often viewed my own body as an unreliable partner. And something Thurston said in his newsletter hit the nail on the head.
After achieving a great deal of progress up until the spring and summer, I noticed something that really frustrated me. If I missed 3 or more days of exercise, I experienced stiffness and pain, and the number of repetitions and sets in my exercise routine would decrease! It was almost as if I hadn’t been doing much exercise at all.
–Thurston D. Gill, Jr.
I have been strength training on and off since college– which is 30 years now. I spent almost 10 years working at Target in a physically demanding job. As I approached 40, after a broken hand, I recommitted to my own fitness. And at 46-ish, I joined a private gym and hired a strength coach. I was a consistent client at Apex Training for three years, even when I had to scrape pennies together to pay for it, until my trainer had a family emergency that put a pause in our relationship and suddenly, I no longer had the money.
What Thurston describes is what I experience. That is what cerebral palsy does to me. My muscles in my legs and lower body never relax. They never get the message from the brain to relax. To facilitate better motion, I stretch and strength train and go to balance and gait physical therapy to show them rather than tell them what to do.
And the more I do it, the more that becomes their default.
And if I don’t do it, they forget.
I guess Thurston and I are both telling you not to take your body for granted, but to also realize that you need a plan to maintain your health and your strength because you never know what might happen. When I broke my hand, it was my dominant hand. That happened when I was in my late 30s.
Would it be more difficult now, a decade later, to do all those everyday tasks with my left hand?
What if I suddenly did have to use crutches?
If I fell, do I have enough upper body strength to pull myself across the floor? Into a chair?
Can I balance on one foot? For how long? Can I do it on each leg?
How do I carry items upstairs if I need one hand to hold the railing?
Can I navigate without relying on my eyesight?
Can I still walk a mile? Two? (If the car breaks down in the middle of nowhere…)
It is Saturday, December 28, around 8:30 a.m. when I start this. Do not expect much eloquence from me, as the gunk Eva passed on to me from her recent illness is still interfering with my ability to think and sleep. It has instead given me a lovely cough, which now after more than a week is getting “wet” and “productive.”
I FINALLY finished my medical intake at the St. Luke’s Medical Fitness program. Because of my paused membership, I’m not sure when my end date in the Thrive program is but let’s assume mid-February for now. This whole journey started in early November when I visited my neurologist-physiatrist to talk to her about my recent mobility issues and any concerns she had about me returning to an exercise program.
The older I get, the more I worry that my cerebral palsy will cause me to hurt myself because I tend not to notice when my body is doing the wrong things.
Eva has worked really hard on remodeling the garage and including a space for a home gym, so I need to pay some attention to myself in that regard. But I’m out of shape, and falling more than usual, so I’m scared.
My neurologist referred me to the medical fitness program, and I had my first medical intake appointment on November 11. My blood pressure spiked during that appointment, so they sent me home without doing the baseline exercise portion of the intake. I returned two days later, and they almost sent me to the ER because my blood pressure was still bad.
Two trips to the primary care doctor, two trips to the cardiologist, and two or three falls (depending how you count, one was a trip, but I still believe it happened because of balance issues which makes it a fall) later, my blood pressure seems under control again.
And of course, yesterday, when I turned up at the gym in the basement of the hospital, it was 130/90.
Since I’ve been fighting the gunk, I almost canceled the appointment, but I filled a water bottle with my electrolyte flavor, grabbed a scarf, forgot a mask, and hopped in the car. My fear was that if I canceled the appointment, the intake would have to wait until after my colonoscopy and I was worried that one thing would lead to another and I’d never get this done.
When I arrived, I forgot my water bottle in the car, still couldn’t find a mask, and realized I had no idea where my membership/gym tag was. In the back of my mind, I knew I had packed a gym bag at my last attempt and that the tag was in the gym bag. But where was the gym bag? And what bag did I use?
Lots of hand sanitizer and frequent hand washing and I refused to shake the young man’s hand. I also told him if I continued to cough and he had to send me home, I understood. But I reiterated that I had had many trials to get to this point and I would rather be sent home than continue the cycle of not trying.
Onto the fancy scale I went (168) and I know that body fat percentage was in the forties, wish I could remember what it was when I was super lean a decade ago. Turns out that information may only exist in paper journals in my attic.
39-year-old Angel … with something to prove before hitting 40
The Angel in the pictures is 45 pounds lighter than me, and I think those 45 pounds, age and stress have had a ridiculous impact on my blood pressure and my mobility. (And for the record– the sweatpants worn by Angel in the pictures were my favorite sweatpants ever.)
I have learned that my body reacts strongly to salt and sugar, and that I “do better” when I cook, and that I have no self-control with processed snack foods like potato chips and doritos.
The trainer I met with yesterday talked about maximum heart rate and how hearts slow down as we age. The highest my heart rate reached in 2024, according to my AppleWatch, was 186. 207 was the highest since I got the watch. The online calculators I have seen suggest that my maximum heart rate for my age is between 170 and 179.
The trainer, and maybe his name was Ryan but maybe I invented that, would like to see me four times a week. I still have the mental mindset to make this work, but my physical stamina and fortitude have worn me out to the point where I can talk myself out of my own efforts.
Maybe, someday, I will get my discipline under control and be one of those old ladies who powerlift. Screw the whole red hat/purple dress thing.
Meanwhile, Monday is my first colonoscopy. It was supposed to be the Monday after Thanksgiving but the doctor had a death in the family. Tomorrow I start my official bowel prep, and it scares me, because I get shaky without food, and low blood pressure without salt, and I already have a mobility disability. Then they will knock me out on Monday, and I tend to have a heavy reaction to medications and anesthesia. So none of this makes me comfortable. The actual colonoscopy, that doesn’t scare me. But everything else does.
So tomorrow, unless I experience miraculous healing today, I will be expelling mucus from my lungs and all the poop from my bum.
I can’t even begin to articulate what I am feeling these days because what I’m feeling is a range of highs and lows.
I’m editing books, planning presentations, talking with writers about their books—- and still dealing with blood pressure fluctuations and high heart rate notifications.
We haven’t had heat so far this winter and the outdoor temperature this week has been highs of the low thirties and lows in the twenties. The interior of my home has been 45 degrees in the morning.
With any luck, the part for the furnace will arrive tomorrow and my repair is scheduled for Wednesday morning.
And even that, I handled well. Until I fell this morning. A real fall. An unexplained fall.
My AppleWatch didn’t even notice and I hit my head hard enough I scared myself.
I had made myself a beautiful egg and yellow pepper omelette that ended up on the floor with me. I ate it anyway.
I turned to carry my plate into the dining room and stumbled and went down as if I didn’t even at feet beyond my ankles.
I felt so vulnerable for the rest of the day I curled up on the couch and alternated between episodes of 1,000 Pound Sisters and The Sopranos.
I feel unseen and unheard. I’m cold and I’m tired. And I have a headache.
The cold is easy to explain but not easy to remedy. My furnace started acting odd last winter, and I invested more than $600 into a possible fix that was nothing more than a guess and a bandaid– and it worked for last winter.
My heat is on 58-degrees right now, because I keep my heat low to save money and it doesn’t go up to 62 degrees until I’m consistently cold. And it only goes higher than 62 on special occasions.If you balk at those numbers, then you’ve never been poor.
Today the furnace refuses to work in any capacity. I called my heating people and they said they could come tomorrow, but I have special plans tomorrow (reading– the wine and book pairing at Cellar Beast Winehouse in Andreas, Pa. Buy tickets here) and I don’t want the stress of knowing if I’ll be without heat this winter. Because the furnace might really be dead. I’m hoping maybe it’s the thermostat, but that might be delusional thinking on my part.
So, when I got home last night, I tracked my blood pressure for the hour after I returned and watched it come down to normal. Then, I ate Wing Stop. I had previously eaten about 850 calories that day with about 50 grams of protein and yeah, when Eva said she was starving and wanted Wing Stop I ordered it. I got a chicken sandwich, 5 boneless wings and an order of the fried corn with parmesan instead of the seasoning. I hoped I wouldn’t eat it all, but I did, which brought my protein totals for the day to around 125 grams and my calories to probably slightly more than 2,550.
My weight this morning did not change. My heart rate also appeared normal. My blood pressure before my beta blocker dose was 116/84. I skipped my morning coffee, drank a glass of electrolyte water and even wore my AppleWatch in the shower to see how my heart rate responded to the hot water.
At the doctor’s office, my weight had not changed. My heart rate was 77! That’s so ridiculously good for me as usually when I walk in the door it skyrockets. My blood pressure was 150/96. And they still have my height listed as 5′ 3″ which makes me obese. I’m 5′ 4″!
I saw a doctor that was not my own, and while he seemed like a very nice person, he didn’t see or hear me. He spent five minutes with me and prescribed a new medication. My history shows I have an issue with anxiety and my blood pressure, and I’m not saying I don’t have an issue, but no one seems to care that my blood pressure only escalates when I am outside of my house!
And I mentioned I struggle with orthostatic hypotension so I’m really concerned about changing my medications.
I am waiting for the pharmacy to fill the meds, and I made the follow-up nurse visit, but I also made an appointment with my cardiologist. But it’s hard to take care of yourself when you don’t have the same financial resources or the same “normal” body as everyone else.
I decided to cheer myself up and do something positive I made a coffee bar at the end of my desk.
I started my new fitness journal Monday and have been making good choices, tracking my activity and walking the dog everyday.
Each day my number of steps increases by about 500 and today I made it up an extra bend of stairs before I was out of breath– Nan lives on the third floor and I always take the stairs instead of the elevator.
I’ve reduced my caffeine intake, resumed taking my beta blocker and have taken my baclofen regularly. Today was my second try to finish my intake for the Thrive Medical Fitness Program at St. Luke’s Hospital. I even arrived 15 minutes early, used the restroom and sat in the waiting room imagining petting my cat, Fog, and listening to his purr.
They wouldn’t let me finish the intake on Monday because of high blood pressure and heart rate and I was determined to do everything I could to come in on target.
Well.
My heart rate passed.
My blood pressure, despite several attempts by more than one person over a course of 20 minutes, did not. They asked several times if I had any symptoms– and I said no because I didn’t. They asked several times. And the last time my trainer emphasized if you have any symptoms at all I will accompany you to the E.R. right now. They let me go home with a promise that I would call my primary care physician and go talk to them tomorrow. And they instructed me to take my blood pressure as soon as I got home.
My numbers there were: 180/120, 180/117 and 160/110.
I came home and the numbers had fallen: 123/91, then 116/82, and finally 115/71.
I went to the bench outside the hospital and called my primary care physician from there. The office is on the way home from the hospital and it was only 4:30 p.m. so if they had concerns they could have me come immediately to the office or stay at the hospital.
I have an appointment for 8:45 a.m. tomorrow.
And the staff at the fitness center thanked me for being so flexible and understanding, acknowledging that the whole situation must be frustrating, but getting angry about it won’t help me– or my blood pressure.
Honestly, I think my body is just anxious about being in/near the hospital.
So we’ll see what my primary care physician’s office says tomorrow.
Angel Ackerman 