Denial

Denial’s a scary thing…because i tend to do anything to avoid the unpleasant…the inevitable.

And yet…it sneaks to the front of my brain, no matter how hard i push it back.

About three weeks ago, j went to his heart doctor.  I used to insist on going with him because he has a habit of telling me only what he wants me to know about any doctor’s visit.  He mumbles and i never get a straight answer about when his next appointment is until the day of.  When i ask him how it went, he tells me, "I’m just fine."

I’m NOT in denial that any 55 year old with at least three heart attacks is "fine".  Especially when that’s what his daddy died of at 59.

He’s been short  of breath lately… and has even admitted it to me (although i’d already noticed).  His skin sometimes feels cool and clammy, other times it’s burning up.  He’s tired all of the time.  Granted, he’s been working a few more hours than normal, but…not that many.  

He didn’t play calm and cool when he came home from the doc this time.  I saw fear on his face…in his eyes.  Tryglicerides are supposed to be 150 or less.  His were over five hundred, which was too high for them to formulate his cholesterol.  I guess it beats the fourteen hundreds that it was in after his second heart attack.  But i don’t have to be happy about it.

His blood pressure’s also high enough for him to stroke out.  That’s never been a problem before– in fact, the nurses would always tell him he had "the temperature of a frog and the blood pressure of an athlete".

He went to bed at 9:00 when normal for him on a work night is around 11:00.

Pray for us.