On Jamie Foxx, Lance Reddick, and Black Death Due to Blood Pressure Issues
Their health issues make me feel I have a hard time limit on mine.
After my morning dump, shower, and brushing my teeth, I first consume 10 milligrams of hydrochlorothiazide with water from my dresser. When I started taking it five years ago, it made me piss like a drunk racehorse throughout the morn. I feel nothing now as I chug down coffee, raise my son for breakfast, get him dressed, and drive out to work.
My doctor’s ignorance could not account for all the factors that weighed down my heart.
I became hypertensive in my physical prime. I was 26 and took up powerlifting as a hobby. I ran six miles a week after school, taking time after school to jog through the rural Arkansan countryside. I eschewed fast food, preferring lean steak and chicken with white rice and salads most nights of the week. I got eight hours of sleep consistently. Yet my primary care physician, a muscular white man himself, gently told me during a check-up during that era it was time to begin medication. “It’s OK,” he consoled me. “Sometimes it’s not about lifestyle or fitness. You caught a bad genetic card. But modern medicine allows you to defy hypertension your DNA dictates.”
