Speaking of healthcare, and who isn't these days, whatever happened to house calls? I remember a time when if someone in my family became sick and was unable to go out, the doctor came to us. That seems to make a lot of sense, even more so in light of the Ebola virus which is set to sweep the country now that a second victim has been identified in Dallas. Surely people would pay a premium for such service.This morning I awoke and sensed that the Grim Reaper was hiding somewhere in my bedroom, possibly the closet. I got out of bed and went downstairs but did not last very long as my dizziness worsened. Returning upstairs, I caught a glimpse of a black robe sticking out from under the bed. Obviously things were bad.
Despite ingesting a double dose of blood pressure pills, some celery stalks and lots of water, I ony felt worse. Finally I gathered the courage to check my blood pressure: 197/100. Uh-oh. I took more pills and went to bed. I started to feel worse and worse. The next reading was 188/103. They say the bottom number is the one to worry about, so of course I did.
Finally I called my doc's hotline, it being early on a Sunday morning, and the lady who answered told me to get to the closest ER immediately. Naturally hearing that made my blood pressure worsen. I could hardly leave my bed, but I was supposed to get up, get dressed, and drive six miles? How about sending some on-call physician my way?
Mitch and I headed out but on the way my pills kicked in and so I went back home and collapsed into a bowl of oatmeal with walnuts and blueberries, all good for lowering BP. But really, house calls. Those were nice.
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