It occurs to me that I have been on this planet for 44 years and, given my racial makeup, I might not have that much time left. A recent study conducted in Philly discovered that 40% of black men studied had hypertension. Only one in three of those were obese. This led to a surprisingly low life expectancy of 69. I’ve watched many black men in and just outside of my circle of known associates pass away in the last decade and that should’ve been the warning sign for me. It wasn’t. In fact it was a deep cleaning at the dentist that informed me that I was suffering from Stage 2 hypertension and, truth be told, close to cardiac arrest.
Let me repeat that. I am a 44 yr old man on the edge of a heart attack. That is something I do not understand. I know far heavier people and less healthy people than myself and while they suffer from issues none seem on the verge of stroke or heart attacks. If the numbers are to be taken at face value, I’m really not going to make it much longer unless I get this stuff under control. Sadly, that will mean changes in my life I don’t want to and have not presently made.
It is supposed to mean the end of coffee. I’m not there yet. I know it raises my BP, which is deep in the red of Stage 2 already (or perhaps because of the coffee…). I don’t want that part of my life to go away. I truly enjoy the caffeine rush and the energy that comes from it. I have made that a part of my daily life and wish to continue in that way.
I am ready to fix the rest. I am back in the gym. I am trying to eat right. I am taking a number of herbal supplements. I am trying everything available in order to create a situation where I don’t die. I just hope it is not too late.
So that is my something blue. There is a real possibility that I leave this mortal coil without ever marrying my true love; without seeing a single birth kid graduate; without writing a truly great story.
I must find a way to avoid that premature ending.