Today on my lunch break I went to go see my Hero Doctor. Well, actually I went to go see his office, since this was supposed to be a routine checkup-and-prescription-renewal visit. I have to do those pretty regularly because of a medication I’m on, so this wasn’t a big deal. All was going according to plan until the nurse took my blood pressure. It was high, enough that she had me sit in a chair in the corner and relax (ha!) for a little while before she took it again. It was actually a little bit higher. She took it a third time, using the big cuff this time. It was a little bit lower, but still high. She then informed me that she was taking me back immediately to see the doctor.
So I saw the doctor, who took my blood pressure again (that’s four times now), and found that it was lower than what the nurse had been getting, but still high enough to cause concern. We talked for a while about various reasons why my blood pressure would be high: the stress over the last few weeks, the recent insomnia I’ve been having (stress-related, I’m pretty sure), the heat, and well, the sad fact that I’ve gained some weight over the last year. (What can I say? It’s been a hell of a year.) His opinion seems to be that when I lose the weight, the blood pressure will take care of itself. I’ve been working on getting back with my food program for a while now, so hopefully soon I’ll start to see results.
These are the days when you just want to go back to bed, pull the covers over your head, and make the world just go away for a little while.
I had meant this post to be all about going to the opera last night. It was rather wonderful, after all. To me, opera seems to be all about layers upon layers of beauty. The beautiful music lays the foundation, of course, with the full orchestra merely supporting the incredible singing (and oh, it’s a treat to hear it done properly by people who are actually up to the challenge!). Then on top of that you have the beautiful costumes, sets, and lighting effects. Then you place this whole spectacle within a beautiful location (and Cincinnati’s Music Hall has many charms). The cherry on the top of all this, however, is the people who go to see the opera. See, when you go to the opera, you can’t wear just anything. No, this is special. This is a unique and rare experience. This is when you pull out all the stops. Strapless evening gowns. Sky high heels. Tuxedos and white dinner jackets. Sparkling jewelry, flowing wraps and shawls, silk and velvet and satin and lace. You bring out the best your closet can offer, and far from being too much, it’s just enough to honor the spectacle that is the opera. You cannot be overdressed at the opera. It’s just not possible. So the loveliness of opera isn’t just the music, the costumes and sets, the beautiful setting for everything, it’s all those attending themselves contributing to the accumulation of beauty.
I already talked about what I wore, so I won’t go into it again. I will say that the outfit was a success (complete with compliments from total strangers). I do have to mention, however, that I was the only person I saw wearing opera gloves. I was a little disappointed. I mean, where in this world can you wear opera gloves if not at the opera? The lady sitting next to me said that she thought she had seen another lady wearing them, but I didn’t see it. However, it was a Wednesday, so perhaps some people weren’t up to pulling out all the stops on a weeknight. I suppose I’ll have to overlook it. Just this once.
Also, I think the weather has now officially gone crazy. Could we get someone with a straitjacket, and maybe a professional therapist in here?