“One-sixty-three,” the cardiologist’s assistant broadcasted.
“Let me take off my shoes.” Cripes! Did she have to say it so loud?
“One-sixty-two point eight.”
“Let me take off . . .
“It won’t matter that much,”she said, already jotting down my weight.
I put my shoes back on in defeat. Was she smirking?
“You’re almost twenty pounds more than the last time, in ninety-six.”
Was she gloating now? Does the doctor allow gloating?
“One-forty over eighty-five,” she announced as the pressure cuff deflated. “The doctor will be in soon.”
This appointment was my own doing. My cousin had a heart attack a few weeks ago. She’s 57. Had no symptoms. With heart disease on both sides of my family, I thought it wise to get checked out again. In 1996, I came here because of bouts of tachycardia and WPW syndrome. Both benign conditions, but annoying. Since then, I’ve felt great.
But one never knows what evil lurks in the heart and arteries. Better to be safe than dead.
“Your EKG looks normal,” the cardiologist said while he listened with the stethoscope to various places on my neck, abdomen, back and chest. “Your blood pressure though is borderline.”
“What could cause it?”
“Sodium in your diet, stress, not enough exercise.”
“I don’t want to go on prescription meds.”
“I want you to have a stress test. Let’s see how your heart looks.”
“I see you’ve gained some weight since last time. It’s borderline, but you should lose a few pounds. Have you had your cholesterol checked lately?”
“Yeah, about a year ago. The doctor said it was borderline. He wants me to try and get it down nutritionally before he puts me on medicine. I did have the CRP test though and it was good.”
“Set up an appointment for your stress test. I'll make a determination after that.”
On the drive home, I got to thinking. Is that all I am? Just borderline?
My weight, my blood pressure, my cholesterol . . .
I wonder . . .
What will it take to drop those pounds and get my blood pressure and cholesterol down?
What will it take to get published?
Last year I was at the Playas de Tijuana. As I walked the beach, I found it fascinating and odd that
and the Mexico are divided in the ocean by a mere wooden fence. I stood there imagining how someone might feel seeing beyond that fence to the other side and wanting to take a chance, but afraid of unknown obstacles under the water. U.S.
Is that what’s going to happen to my writing career? Seeing success but afraid of obstacles and the unknown?
I will write that winning query letter!
I will research agents and submit appropriately!
I will keep writing!
I will keep editing my manuscripts!
And . . .
I will get published one day!