This Trick I Do

"Have you ever done biofeedback before?" asked the medical assistant.

"No. But I have this trick that I do when I go to the doctor and they're taking my blood pressure," I answered.

"Really? What do you do?" she asked.

"I picture myself lying like a starfish on a king-sized mattress in a hotel room, and there's a sliding glass door that's open. There are sheer curtains, and a gentle breeze gives a light sway to them. The breeze coming in is warm, and I feel the breeze, but just barely. Outside, I hear the wind in the trees and the sounds of a gentle surf from the ocean," I explained.

"And, does this work?" she asked.

"My blood pressure is never higher than 110/70," I said. "I like to think that it does work. I have one other visual that works well, too. In that one, I'm lying on a beach, on a thick towel. The temperature is in the low- to mid-80s. There's a breeze coming off of the ocean, and it keeps me from ever feeling overheated, but I don't get a chill either. It's perfect."

"Okay. That's amazing. I'm going to take your blood pressure. I want you to picture that you're in a very cold office, and you can't put enough layers on to stave off the cold. You have five separate phones to answer, and each is a multi-line phone, and you have to transfer the calls appropriately. Standing in front of you, there's a line of 12 people, and they all want answers to questions and need to be directed, and it's your second day on the job, and you really have no clue how to handle all of this happening all at once." She paused, looking me in the eye to make sure I understood the scenario. "Oh, and one of the people in line is extremely agitated and begins to make a scene, and he's upsetting and agitating everyone around him."

"Got it," I said. "That's a horrible scenario. I hate being cold." I closed my eyes while the MA put the blood pressure cuff on my arm, and I put myself into the scenario.

"Wow," she said. "That was wild. Your blood pressure was 200/138. I'm going to wait around 5 minutes and re-take it, and you can use your visual. Okay?"

"Sure," I answered. We went through the usual stuff: why are you here, how long have you had these symptoms, do you have allergies, what meds are you on, blah, blah, blah.

"Ready to have me re-take your B/P?" she asked.

"Yes," I said, and I closed my eyes, imagining the high thread count sheets and comforter. And the pillow on the bed was like a cloud. And the mattress felt like I was resting on a puff of air. Lovely. And then, there was the gentle breeze, just kissing my cheeks and forehead, the barest movement of the wisps of hair around my face.

"Incredible," the MA said.

"What was my blood pressure this time?" I asked.

"90/60. Are you able to manipulate your blood pressure like that all the time?"

"Yep," I said.

"When you get stressed in your everyday life, do you picture your visual de-stressors?"

"No," I answered, with a hint of wonder in my voice. I didn't know why I had never considered doing that. It would probably be a big help and keep me on an even keel. It would probably make me way nicer to my husband, and even I knew that guy deserved a more pleasant partner than I was.

The doctor came in shortly after the blood pressure experiment and diagnosed bronchitis then sent me on my way with instructions and prescriptions. My husband, the sweet, lovely man, who I treated like a doormat (at least, in my mind I treated him like a doormat) asked what the doctor had to say.

"Why do they want you to sleep upright?" he asked.

"To prevent mucus from collecting in my chest," I answered.

"Why?" he asked.

"So I don't get pneumonia," I answered quickly.

"What happens if you get pneumonia?" he asked, rapidly following my answer.

"We don't want to get pneumonia," I said.

"Why not?" he asked.

"Because we don't. It's bad," I answered again.

"I don't want you to die," he said. I closed my eyes, and I pictured the hotel room, and the bed, and my solitary existence there. I reopened my eyes, and my husband was looking at me strangely.

"I thought you just had a narcoleptic episode," he said.

"Nope. It was a visual technique so that I don't reach out and choke you to death," I said.

"Really? You want to choke me to death?" he asked.

"Sometimes, yeah, I definitely feel I would enjoy ending your life, but then I picture the next day or the next hour, and I know I would miss you. Desperately."

"Well, that's comforting," he said.

"I'm trying my blood pressure technique when I feel myself getting angry. I'm basically talking myself off the ledge and getting back into a more rational headspace."

"Then, I should feel better, huh?" he said, and there was a sad look on his face. "How often do you want to kill me?" he asked.

"Maybe a couple times a week, but I would never actually do it. I would miss you too much...plus...murder...of someone I love...that's bad. It's a cardinal sin and all that...and I love you," I rambled. "You're too wonderful, but I hate it when you push my buttons."

"Sometimes, honey," he said, "I feel that all you are is buttons. Maybe you could do meditation and practice your awesome hotel, breeze, mattress scene every day. Do you think that would help you with your being ultra-short-tempered?" he asked. It was a good question, and I made up my mind not to be angry for his asking.

"I can give it a whirl," I answered. "Do you think I should do it when I'm in the shower?" I asked.

"No, I think you're supposed to be 100% in the moment, and I think if you're trying to meditate in the shower, you'll be distracted."

"Good point," I said.

"Well, bronchitis. Does that mean we need to reschedule our plans for tonight?"

"Probably," I said. "It would be bad if I sneezed or something."

He opened up the hard copy calendar we used. "I suppose we could knock off the mob lawyer lady next weekend. We'd be double-booked, but I think she's going to be a quick hit."

"Wouldn't it be great if we could make the one hit look like he was killing the lawyer and then took himself out?" I asked. "Now, I bet something like that would probably provide a fantastic visual for my blood pressure trick."