I went and did my follow up examination with a nurse today. Her goal in life today was to put one of those blood pressure wrap thingees around my arm and keep pumping that little black ball thingee until all the blood backed up inside my head or gush out from my eyeballs or something along that line. I swear to God my fingertips were white and I’m Caucasian enough as it is and I really don’t need any help to go total albino.
Anywho she put me thru this torture device experience twice and I asked how things turned out; not that I’d would even know or have any clue what any of it meant anyway. She said my BP went up two points after she took it the first time and I kinda sorta threw both arms up into the air and let out one of those …
“WOO HOO!! HE SHOOTS AND HE SCORES TWO AT THE BUZZER!!!”
I don’t think she thought that my basketball reference was very comical given that “you must have lost your damn mind” look that she had on her face. And I guess while 140 over 110 would be a good score if you’re UCLA and you’re playing Notre Dame but it’s not good thingee for older dudes and their non-Geritol tainted blood.
I was so depressed that I went and consoled myself with one of those huge cinnamon rolls at Perkins afterwards. I had an unsweetened iced tea with it too.