Today, I am an old man.
After months of putting it off (and numerous threats by my mother to send in the flying monkeys), I finally went to the doctor for a general check-up. The good news is that I don't have any obvious maladies and my bloodwork turned out okay (save my HDL being a bit low). The bad news? I have high blood pressure. I'm talking 157/98 high. Now I have a blood pressure monitor thingie that I have to use several times a day and turn the results in to the doc when I go back for a visit. It kind of reminds me of high school science fair projects, except I measured lettuce and drug-resistant bacteria instead of myself.
Blood pressure isn't the sort of thing you should have to worry about at 26. It shouldn't even be high until you have a couple of kids (and as much work as they can be, dogs don't count). Next thing you know, I'll be drinking Ensure to wash down my Fibercon tablets and falling asleep watching Wheel of Fortune, my bifocals hanging in front of me on one of those silly chains. I guess the next logical step is to start driving a Buick Park Avenue way under the speed limit.
Being fat doesn't really help matters either. Shauna and I are both pretty sick of being overweight and started doing something about it last week. She's been a real machine: she has to find creative ways to make it up to 1200 calories in a day, usually with a cup of hot cocoa at bedtime. I'm not quite that nuts (men need more calories anyway), but I have cut down a bit. That I'm getting away with high blood pressure and minor cholesterol issues is either really good luck or really good genes. Except for the blood pressure. I'm sure that's genetic.