blood pressure monitor

Ew, I hate this thing to pieces. And I mean it.

     "Why?"

Because it turns my apartment into a hospital and I strongly resent that.

     "Well, here's the thing. Daily readings at home are important to us. They give us a more accurate picture because you are usually more relaxed at home. That information is important and a log of it helps us make better decisions."

Fine. You win.  Grrrrrr.

Goddamint I hate that thing.  I despise monitoring myself.

Plus it reads 35 points higher at home than reading taken at the GP and at the specialist.

I don't like the new specialist either.

I'm back to my old self that hates everything.

The thing is, he's a dick.

The girls sent me to the bathroom for a urine sample. As you might tell by my two canes my balance is shot. Right at the critical moment with my dick in one hand and the cup in the other standing in delicate balance in front of the toilet just at the moment pee is about to come out of me the light goes off in the bathroom. Bink. Total darkness. I flail for balance. My arms literally fly through the air. I grope for the handle that I know is on the wall. I very nearly fell. Like gravity disappeared into total darkness. My arm movement turns the lights back on.

And now I gotta work up that wet evacuation again. Fearful the lights will turn off again at the same critical moment, or after when the cup is filled or filling. Then there will be a real mess flung across the entire spotless room. I cannot wave my arms around to make sure the light stays on because one hand is still holding my dick and the other hand is still holding the little cup and I'm still delicately uncertainly balanced. I cannot sway because I cannot balance. I'm stuck. In a pee-room of apprehension and uncertainty.

Every little thing is a goddamn adventure.

Maybe I should have sat down.

Here's what makes the guy a dick.

Walking out from the bathroom back to the entrance I pass him walking into his office. He turns his head away to avoid saying "Hi." That was the moment I actually met him. That moment was unhappily and incredibly revealing.

That's how I knew that he's socially inept. In one half second of passing. That look away from me instead of into me.

All he had to do is look at my eyes in passing and say a quick, "Hi" but that was too much for him. And that's what makes him a dick.

This entire kidney specialist thing is compensation for that personality/security shortcoming.

Then in the office with me where everything is exceedingly personal, as if that social misstep didn't happen, he's 100% business, super-business, not a trace of humanity. Pure doctor without a person behind the doctor persona or around it. His single manner of interaction is doctor to patient with zero personality, zero soul, zero spirit, zero ego, zero id, zero self, zero confidence. Absolutely nothing for me to connect to. So I don't. Just business. Just answer the questions as filling out a form. That is in fact what he is doing on his computer right next to me.

But he is very good at his business.

I told him that I did already look at blood pressure monitors on Amazon, that I read all the reviews of all the units, and became confused due to the bad ones. I was right back to square one where I started. Nothing stood out. Not even a particular style stood out. I'd prefer the least obtrusive. The least medical-looking. The least hospital-like. But those all got more poor reviews than the clunky ones did.

Could he suggest one to buy?

No. He cannot.

Could he suggest a style?

No. He cannot.

Turns out his opinion is the arm ones are better than the wrist ones, so yes, he can suggest a particular style. He types like a mother f'k'r and already had Amazon open. He was already scanning the styles. He pointed to one and I bought it.

But I used "buy now" instead of the basket, and the next day, yesterday, the devise was sent to my brother in California. Oops.

His address was pre positioned. I forgot to re-route it.

My brother called a bit confused. His wife already has one. The wrist kind.

I told my brother to keep it. Now his wife has two, arm and wrist kind. She can compare them.

I bought another that came today and now my apartment is made into a hospital and I cannot express how much I resent that.

On the way out of their office the girl who had been quiet while the loud mouthed girl was speaking, suddenly came alive and she handed me three piles of papers.

Apparently they have separate duties. One handles incoming the other handles outgoing.

Why are you giving me all this?

     "This is a recap of what was done today. This is a reminder for your appointment in January. This is instructions for you before you go to a clinic next month with a 24 hour collection of urine. And keep that refrigerated. Here is your bottle. Take it with you to the clinic when you get the blood sample next month.

Refrigerated!

Piss in my refrigerator!

Does the jar have to be so big?

     Yes. Some people use two of these jars.

Oh for Christ sake. This is too much for me to take in. It's too much to spring on me at once. Too much strange instructions at once. I need reminders. I need help sorting all this. These papers will set down then another PILE of papers will cover them. You are not operating in a vacuum. There are a LOT of other things going on. Each one demanding the same attention as you. Each thing a strange new thing. Each one assuming they're the only thing happening on earth. I cannot deal with this without certain failure.

I need an advocate.

I cannot handle this.

You're too much. This is too much.

For I am a simple caveman who had fallen in a big giant hole in the ice. All these modern contrivances frighten and confuse me. Like when I saw the solar eclipse I thought, oh no, the moon is eating the sun, because that's how I think. When I drove over here in my truck the lights above the street kept changing from green to yellow then red and all the cars stopped and I thought oh no, they're all dead and I'll never make it to the kidney specialist. for I am a simple caveman. This is how I think.

But you know what? I think this dick nerd kidney specialist is going to turn out alright. He's going to be a new friend. This is his manner to overwhelm with specific details as proof of his efficiency. That's how he manages. Through efficiency. I've worked with people like this before. All his personality is bound up in efficiency. To get to his personality I must phase with hyper-efficiency. In the past when I did this we turned out to be fast and good understanding friends because I can handle them where others cannot. I can actually outdo their efficiency. I can out-detail them. I can drive them nuts.

I can bring in my new monitor and have them calibrate it against theirs.

I can meet every demand put on me with excess alacrity.

I can call them to reaffirm before they call me to reaffirm. I can make them answer the phone before they make me answer the phone. I can remind them of appointments and extraneous tasks before they remind me. I can drive them bananas. I can make them wish I would stop. I can work them the way they work me and everyone else. Except more. Oh, they're going to love me.

I'm just their kind of guy.

I worked with people like this. I know this office. These are the Belgian sheepdogs of specialists. Extremely frighteningly precise. They trained me how to train them, rather, they trained me how to best work together. It's like Switzerland where everyone is punctual all the time and always super precise. The watchmaking tiny detail type culture.

This can actually be fun.

But the message the guy imparted is super serial.

It's a bit depressing.

Care to hear it?




My kidneys stopped working down to 10% efficiency.

Apparently that's the point they put you on dialysis.

     "You know what that is. Right?"

Yes.

But now it's crept back up to 30%.

And that's a good sign.

They're trying to understand why it's so low.

It could be a lot of things.

They don't want to make any immediate changes. But they do want to monitor closely as possible. And they do want to review records of the last five years.

Digging that up from the retired GP, and from the various places, the clinics and the hospitalizations will take some time.

The next step is an invasive biopsy. They'd prefer not to do that. But that is next step. They'll poke with an instrument and grab a piece of kidney and examine it.

This is the point where I slump in the chair. I am deflated.

I DO NOT want to do that.

The constant blood tests are bad enough. And I already had a kidney scan in Parker.

Hopefully kidney function will creep back up past 30% to 40% and beyond. That's what I'm hoping.

Apparently there are lot of things they can do, quite a lot of medications to take, but all the invasive testing comes first.

Although a dick-nerd, the guy was very clear. Exceedingly clear. He prepared me in clear-headed fashion for all that comes next. And he did that with zero personality.