How's It Gonna End?

I'm falling out of love with science.  Not the scientific method.  That is still pretty much the best way we have.  But science as a "truth factory."  How can I say it?  Too much science?  I mean. . . the "truths" we get now are simply provisional.  They are true until the next study.  At least you can count on religious truths.  They are simple.  Don't do anything people agree is bad.  Don't talk back to your parents, don't lust after your sister, don't cuss. . . simple things.  

I had to go to the doctor's office yesterday morning to get my blood drawn.  You see, now my cholesterol levels are too high.  They were good.  I have a lot of "good" cholesterol, HDLs, because we were told they were not harmful.  Olive oil, avocados, nuts, salmon. . . you know.  A new study has shown, however. . . . Now those, too, can be bad.  So I fasted and went without coffee and got my blood drawn for testing once more.  

I'm not confusing science with technology, either.  We all know about ceramic hip replacements, silicone titties, etc.  I won't even bring up thalidomide.  We confuse medical professionals with scientists.  They aren't.  They are practitioners of technology.  They rely on what the drug and implant industries tell them.  

Your physician is not doing research.  Your physician is simply "following the science."

The night before, knowing I had to stop eating and drinking at a certain hour, I watched t.v., a documentary on Pierre Bonnard, and texted with. . . .  But I fell asleep.  I mean, I just dropped.  I woke up just before midnight.  I looked at my phone.  I had not responded to her last three texts.  WTF?  I wrote an apology and stumbled off to bed.  

I don't believe in premonitions.  I don't think I do.  But that night, I had dreams that I was dying.  I woke from my fitful sleep filled with dread and doom.  I tossed and turned and then it was after eight.  I mean, that was a lot of not sleeping.  

"I know I'm dying. . . but so are you."

I was in a haze all of yesterday.  Perhaps I had picked up a bug somewhere.  I just never woke up.  I continued my sleepless death march until evening.  

My blood pressure is worse than ever, too.  

And so last night, I limited myself to wine before and with dinner and then switched to tea and that Golden Milk concoction.  I know I don't drink enough water.  I never have in my life.  I read yesterday that people with high bps should drink over 100 oz of water a day.  Are they shitting me?  I feel the hero if I get 32 oz down.  I bought a gallon jug of water yesterday.  I'm going to see how much of it I can consume today.  It won't hurt me, I guess.  I'll give it a go.  

But it seems dreadful.  

Medicine as I was growing up was nothing like this.  The doctor, smoking a cigarette, would enter the examination room with a little rubber mallet, a stethascope, and a headlamp.  He (usually) would look up your nose, down your throat, in your ears, then listen to your heart and have you breathe deeply, stethoscope on your back.  He'd tap your knee with the mallet and, boom!. . . you were done.  Maybe he'd write you a script for diet pills or nerve pills or both.  

Whatever.  

I'm just saying that science is a booming field and the "truths" we live by are changing rapidly.  And then technology takes the science and makes useful things like plastic.  Lots and lots of different kinds of plastic.  Oops.  

I have to go back to the doctor in a week.  I'm sure she will cheer me up.  She's the one who told me that I was going to have a stroke.  She has a great bedside manner.  

And that is why I didn't post yesterday.  Things just sucked.  

"And I just want to know the same thing. . . how's it going to end."