While I'm waiting in the examining room, I get a 6 word text that makes me smile and causes my heart to sing a little bit.
Doc, entering the room 2 minutes later: Hi! What can I do for you today?
Me: Hiya, I need a refill.
Doc: That's easy enough. Let's get that done.
Me, as he tightens the band around my arm: I ran out about 5 weeks ago, so it'll probably be high.
Doc, as he starts pumping that thing that makes the band strangle my bicep: That's actually OK. We'll get a good baseline of what you're at without meds.
Me, thinking about that text and grinning in my soul: Okie doke.
Doc, reading the numbers in surprise: Interesting. You are normal. Right in the healthy range.
(I'd been on these meds ever since Max started using drugs. And then my house got robbed. Then my truck was stolen. Then I lost my job. Then I had an empty nest. Then my dad had a stroke...and so on. Every time he checked my blood pressure in the past 6 years, I had something heavy (usually my dad or my kids) on my mind. This was likely the first time this decade that my blood pressure has been tested and I've had happy thoughts in my head.)
We decided I should probs keep taking them, as this day's reading may have been a fluke.
I really wanted to ask him to give me a few minutes (to get all worked up and worried about something) and do the test again. I wanted to see just how much having negative thoughts could affect a blood pressure reading. But I didn't want to waste his time. So I left it. BUT I WAS SURE I COULD CHANGE MY BLOOD PRESSURE SIMPLY BY ALTERING MY THOUGHTS.
On April 13, I was back at the doctors, this time for my annual (well, bi-annual) physical, complete with all the touchy feelies. While on the stir-up table, partially covered with a blue piece of paper the size of a napkin, he checks my eyes, ears, throat, lungs and tests my blood pressure again.
I have big heavy thoughts on my heart; like, after he puts the blood pressure thingy back on the wall, his attention will turn back to me and all my below-the-neck-parts.
Not unexpectedly, my blood pressure numbers are high.
I lay back on the table and count the dots in the ceiling tiles while he continues his examination. When he's done, he leaves the room so I can put my clothes back on.
Him, after re-entering the room: You're very healthy...
Me: Can you check my blood pressure again?
Him: Happy to. It should be lower now that you're seated in a chair, dressed?
Me, already thinking about things that make me very happy: Definitely.
It was totally lower and right in the healthy zone.
A friend is struggling with anxiety and depression, and her psychiatrist concluded, after 5 months of treatment, that the root cause of her struggle is "Constant Rumination".
"Ruminating is like wearing a constant groove in a record, you replay the same thoughts over and over until it is nearly impossible to stop."
Who knew that Bible verses were good for your health?
Three things I'm thankful for:
1. The power we have to think about anything we choose to.
2. Smart people; like doctors.
3. God knew what He was doing when He left us a Bible full of wisdom for everyday living.
On the blackboard wall in the Creative Dept at work: