The harsh reality of aging may be catching up to me

It’s never good when the nurse conducting the examination goes: “Whoa!”

But sitting in my doctor’s office for my first checkup since the pre-COVID days, the perfectly pleasant nurse, with whom I had been chatting amiably while she worked up my vitals, suddenly turned her smile upside down when she examined my blood-pressure readings.

“That’s high,” she said, by way of followup.

I scoffed. Sure, I’m careening through middle age but I like to think that I’m a pretty healthy guy. I’ve ridden my bike more than 10,000 kilometres in each of the last two years and have been engaged in endurance sports for more than two decades. My resting heart rate is excellent (even the nurse agreed.)

I eat a reasonably healthy diet, at least by my own historical standards.

Fine, I could probably stand to lose 10 pounds. And I likely drink too much, given that one of the bike clubs I’m a part of is called GearsB4Beers. I still like pizza, potato chips, chicken wings and the occasional dalliance with a fastfood burrito. But this is still a vast improvement over the beer and burgers diet that dominated the period between ages 20 and 30.

“Well,” asked the nurse. “What about stress?”

Errrrrrrr. My job is fast-paced and features frequent deadlines. Things at home are generally good but this is Year 8 of raising one teenager or another, which — and I love my kids more than anything — isn’t always easy. COVID put pressure on all of us. My social media feeds are a cacophony of deflating nonsense about the declining state of society, the poisoned environment and general human stupidity.

I used to think of myself as more or less immune to the impacts of stress. I don’t think that was ever true, just a false bravado common to my gender and generation, and it’s definitely not true now. As I get older, I think I worry less about the little things but more about the big ones — while realizing my ability to influence them is limited. Thanks for nothing, wisdom of aging.

The doctor tested my blood pressure during his part of the examination and it had come down a little (I might have been nervous about going for a checkup.) He asked me to monitor it for a few weeks.

Turns out that roughly 13 per cent of men in my age and weight bracket have “hypertension,” which is the terrible word they’ve created to describe the medical condition that is high blood pressure. It can be controlled with medication and lifestyle changes.

The nurse didn’t seem all that concerned. “Just something to keep an eye on for now,” she said, the smile returning. “Just another part of getting older.”

It just ticked up another couple of notches.

‘‘ Sure, I’m careening through middle age but I like to think that I’m a pretty healthy guy.