It's a real treat for the cats: they got their breakfast a half-hour sooner! I've got a doctor's appointment early today, which is not so much of a treat, especially since we're going to have to have a conversation about my having discontinued one of the two blood pressure medications she has prescribed.
Why would I do a fool thing like that? Because it was zombiefying me. Sluggish, mentally dull, depressed and steadily worse. I could barely focus on the simplest of tasks. Was it helping with blood pressure? You couldn't tell from my notes: the first medication knocked it down to normal range (with, it is true, occasional excursions: I have a touch of White Coat Syndrome) and the one I dropped may have knocked it down another one or two percent. That's a very high price for a tiny change and there's no point making the machine run within spec if it screws up the software. Maybe I'd live decades longer -- in a depressed muddle. Yeah, no thanks.
Doctors don't like it when the animals talk back, even more so when we second-guess 'em. I'm not very good at tactfulness or confrontation; dealing with authority figures, I tend to not say much and try to give answers that will get me back out the door with minimal interpersonal conflict. But I've got to tell her I won't take that stuff again.
4 months ago