May 7, 2019

Today the doctor checked in with me on the blood tests I did last week. I am still getting used to the idea that tests aren’t necessarily dire, after more than a decade of tests explicitly around cancer (which I am mercifully now free of, after multiple attempted invasions). These were standard let’s-do-a-blood-panel type and generally nothing was surprising.

She doesn’t like my blood pressure. (Neither do I.) Says I need to stress less and is hopeful that now that dissertation is done I can come back in three months and test again. However privately amused I am at the idea that my stress will magically disappear in three months, I am listening, and taking her lecture to heart. No, I won’t be able to stop the stress entirely. Yes, I need to keep working on doing it anyway. Not going to get anything done at all if I am too sick or too dead to do it.

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For the first time in 2019, the thermostat in my car said that it was 100 degrees F outside, for a minute this afternoon. It’s only May. This adds