Stayin’ alive, stayin’ alive
Ah Ah Ah Ah
Stayin’ alive, stayin’ alive
Ah Ah Ah Ah
STAYIN’ ALIVE!
Welcome to the first of some occasional, light-hearted columns about the above…. about try to keep alive (without any intentional preachiness). I can’t and won’t advise about how to GET healthy (as if I knew!). More on that later.
I am just passing on a bit of sage advice from someone who has learned some things the hard way and is keen to pass on some good stuff, while having a bit of a laugh along the way, about physical and mental health, and life in general.
Me? I’m in my mid to late 60s …. Oh, OK, I’m 67, the age my Dad died at, not that that is concentrating my mind at all.
Now, I am not a health professional, but I have a better-than-standard layman’s knowledge, especially after the past few decades, during which I have gone from being a young, fit, healthy… goddammit, gorgeous and hairy fella to the, ahem, lovely, shaven-headed grandad that I am today.
I am a career journalist in three countries over 48 years but, having endured quite a few ongoing medical dramas, I feel impelled to pass on some layman’s knowledge and advice. But, I am not a doctor. OK? I am a professional patient! Do I know the staff at my doc’s by name?… Yes. Do I know the staff at my local pharmacy by name? Yes. Do I feel like their major shareholder?….Yes.
Am I a doctor? No, as James Bond might say.
Today, to start off, I am going to take on the first of the trio of Nightly Ninjas that I have had to battle in recent decades… you will know that newspaper articles always like to refer to the “silent killers“. They have been stalking me for ages but I am winning, thus far.
Today’s first cab off the rank is hypertension.
A lot of people hear the term but still don’t realise what it means. It is high blood pressure. Hypertension is a silent killer because you never know what your blood pressure is doing unless you get it measured, and many people don’t until it is urgent.
You never hear anyone say: “My blood pressure really hurts today”. You generally don’t necessarily feel ill if your blood pressure is chronically high, although you sure can if it spikes when your BP is normally good. Similarly, a chronically low BP is often not a detectable problem unless you suddenly crash and then you can be in trouble.
Most people know a BP reading is made up of two figures but they often don’t know their significance. The upper number, the systolic, shows the pressure your blood applies to your artery walls when the heart is beating. A systolic of less than 120 is considered healthy. The lower figure, the diastolic, shows the pressure on your arteries when the heart if resting. Less than 80 is considered fine and dandy.
Doctors consider you a stage one hypertensive if you are 130-139 over 80 to 89. Stage two is 140 and up over 90 and up. You have a hypertensive crisis if you are 180 and up over 120 and up.
My layman’s advice if you have raised BP, or never get it checked? Wake up! Sort it! If you have ignored it for years, get to your doctor’s. If you have untreated hypertension, you are a sitting duck for a stroke or for heart disease because your blood vessels are not designed for a lifetime of such stress.
How do I know? I have had a half a lifetime of it. A familial tendency towards hypertension has meant that I, along with my five siblings, have all had to fight it. Our mum and dad, of course, died early, probably because of it, given that one went from a massive heart attack and the other had angina for years before it was time.
More layman’s advice…. Diet is a massive component. I am a Pomgolian… born and raised in the Sixties near Liverpool, England with a standard, working-class Northern English diet of the time of chips with everything, veggies that came out of a can, salt in abundance and an attitude of whatever happens, happens. Meh.
The end result, for me? I was diagnosed with hypertension about 35 years ago! My brand of the curse has been particularly tough for doctors to get on top of.
For some hypertension sufferers, it requires only the prescription of a single hypertension medication, such as a beta-blocker, a diuretic or an ACE inhibitor. Over the journey, I have had them all in varying dosages and doses.
I have had to take four anti-hypertensives (some twice a day) for years to keep my BP anywhere near the magic range of 120/70 or so. Hence, I have always said that I am on more prescription drugs than Ozzy Osbourne was.
Speaking of Ozzy, I “met” him once! March, 1973… Black Sabbath at the Liverpool Stadium. The queue to get in stretched right around the back of the square building – a boxing and wrestling stadium normally – as 3000 hairy, denim-clad troggs waited to be allowed in. My mates and I were right next to the rear “stage door” when it suddenly opened, just as a van pulled up. Out jumped bass guitarist extraordinaire Geezer Butler, and the Prince of Darkness himself. We all jumped out of the way to let them past and I said to Ozzy, in my broad Scouse accent of the time: “Arright Oz!” He turned and grinned at me and responded in that sing-song Brummy (Birmingham) accent that people got to know on The Ozbournes: “Oooh-roight!”
Everyone in the queue looked at me, gasped, and said: “You spoke to Ozzy Osbourne!” Instant cred.
Anyway, I digress.
Hypertension. Take the advice of someone who knows… get it sorted!
Because stayin’ alive beats the alternative.
Till next time!
