The Downside Risk Became Acute

 So I have always tried to analyze things I have done in life using a very simple calculus: upside benefit versus downside risk. I learned this empirically, at first, and then as a lawyer, as a way to give clients a basis for deciding whether to accept a settlement offer or go to trial. Usually the settlement was the way to go.

Clients would ask me what a jury would do, and I would respond that I would tell them if they told me who the jurors would be. I also used OJ's case as an educational tool (putting aside the differing standards of proof in criminal v civil proceedings). One jury said OJ was a murderer - another said he was not.

And so it has been over the past years with my eating and drinking habits. I always tend to the zaftig, and over the years have tried the Adkins diet, and more exercise. Covid was, ironically, extremely healthy for me. We had a brand new grandson, and I feared this terrible pandemic might take him. I walked daily. A LOT -- most days near 10 miles -- all around the 'hood. And I ate little, and as a result, probably went "down" to 200 lbs -- still more than this 5' 11" guy should be, but comparatively svelte.

My friend Kenny snapped a shot of me while we were walking after his shift at Baptist, and compared it to a shot of me with MUCH more poundage at his 25th anniversary in Wine Country. I truly looked thinner and better.

Well, Little Man survived Covid, and was joined by Baby Man, and I no longer had the existential dread of Dickensian loss. I kept walking, but now do 3 miles the days I don't train with my trainer. And I do THAT twice per week. The past few blood draws have shown pretty good numbers, even though the past couple of years I have been eating and drinking like a college boy. 

The upside was the pleasure of that 4th slice of pizza, and third (sometimes 4th) martini. I liked it. And since my health was pretty, pretty, pretty ok, the downside risk, while there, didn't seem acute. I happily called myself a fat slob, but a mostly healthy one.

And then...I saw a specialist and they took my blood pressure. It was high. Far too high. I saw the office in follow up, and laughed it off as "finger in the tush syndrome," a more serious version of being nervous in a doc's office, what they call "white coat syndrome." But I decided I'd better follow up with Rigo, my doc.

And I did, this am, and sure enough, the BP was high -- far too high. He put me on Lisinopril, which I shall start as soon as Walgreen's fills my scrip, and also, to the approval of the Ds, a GLP -- an oral one. D1 is an RD and wanted me to take a GLP for years -- she has MANY patients on them, and they all thrive.

Rigo has been on one for years -- he's probably down 50 lbs from where he was. So a new beginning.

He told me that where my BP was, if I didn't treat it, I wouldn't be around for long, at least as intact as I am. So indeed the downside risk is acute -- I hope to get 20 more good years -- and not as a stroke victim or cardiac cripple.

After 85 -- eh. With rare exceptions, it seems life isn't so great after that. My Mom was fine until 89, and then a comical car wreck (3 cars in a lot when she hit R instead of D) was the beginning of a sad, slow, 4 year decline. My father in law made it to 90, but could have done without the last 5 Alzheimer's ridden years. My suegra made it to 97 -- again -- after the late 80s, not so great.

So I may well drop, but at least I'm gonna give it the good ole GLP and BP med try.

Rigo says if I DO lose the weight, I may well wean off the BP meds. That would be fine.

And then other stuff stressed me today, and I FaceTimed with Barry, thinking maybe share an adult beverage. But then I read about alcohol and BP on a Mayo Clinic site -- until hypertension is controlled, stay off the booze.

So my plan is to get that diastolic number well under 100. Once I do -- one or 2 vodkas -- either at tailgates, or maybe on our December planned cruise from Barcelona to Lisbon.

Here's to reducing that downside!