Northeast Mississippi Daily Journal, Tupelo, Scott Morris column
It's a symptom of health insurance cost control. If your tire pressure is within acceptable parameters, they knock a few dollars off your deductible.
I never have trouble with tire pressure. Check any time, and I'm good to go.
The same's true for blood pressure, though the test makes me nervous during these screenings.
I'm not bothered at the doctor's office because nothing's riding on the outcome, but at work, we're talking about real money that could cover family night at Krystal a few times over.
Even before the cuff went on, I started breathing down into my belly, the way they say we're supposed to do all time but only do when getting our blood pressure checked.
I also went to my happy place, that mental space I retreat to when I need a break from the real world. For me, it's waves breaking rhythmically on a beach. It's kind of cloudy and gray there. Comfortable. It suits me.
I'm there now, so it's hard to think up the next sentence.
Luckily for my deadline's sake, I can never spend too much time in my happy place. The mind wanders so easily.
I've heard that's a regular complaint among human beings. When trying to focus, one thought leads to another. Pretty soon, you're worrying over the real possibility of thermonuclear war, while the nice lady tries to make sure your blood pressure is low enough for you to afford cheeseburgers for your kids.
But I'm exaggerating. I wasn't thinking about thermonuclear war. I spent so much time in the '80s anxious over the
That lack seems wrong of me somehow, but there it is.
No, I started thinking about the next test, which involved a needle. When I've had blood drawn over the past decade, more often than not, it took multiple piercings at several spots. I don't want to get too vivid, but they often had to root around underneath the skin before spiking a gusher.
I'm tough, you know. I can take it, but that doesn't mean I like it, and I found it next to impossible to enjoy the surf rolling and pounding away during my gray day at the beach.
Instead, I pictured that needle and wondered if a jury would consider the
Probably not, since my blood pressure was below target and Brandi -- talented Brandi, fantastic Brandi, Brandi the Magnificent -- got what she needed with one stick.
May all of her beaches be cloudy and gray, unless, of course, she prefers them sunny.
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