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A Bullet for Hypertension

Majid Ali, M.D.

There is a view of hypertension in medical textbooks. There is also a different view of high blood which is seldom spoken about in medical schools and medical conferences. The story below reveals the second view.

A woman visited me for the treatment of high blood pressure. She smiled and giggled as she answered my questions about stress at home and work, infections, pain syndromes, heart and kidney diseases, and food allergies. I looked at her husband and asked if she smiled and giggled at home the same way as she was doing during the visit. The husband grinned broadly and nodded. Then I asked her if she smiled and giggled like this at work as well. She nodded joyously. I was puzzled. I looked at her intently for several moments, then said, "You're not giving me any clues to the cause of your high blood pressure. I am a curious. I would very much like to know if you can shed light on this. If you cannot now think of anything from your past, perhaps something will come to you later. If so, I would love to hear about it."

The woman giggled some more and then suddenly became serious. I leaned toward her in anticipation. Her husband looked at her in earnest as well. Several moments passed. Then she spoke, first tentatively, then with growing thickness in her voice, "There is image that often returns to me. I would like to forget it but it keeps coming back. I was raised in a small town in the South. I used to play with children and some dogs on a dusty road near my home. One day a cop drove by, then stopped, reversed his police car, and stared at us. All of the children froze. My dog stood by me motionless, then moved closer to me. Some time later, the cop stepped out of his car, pulled his gun, took aim and fired. There was a sharp yelp and then the dog collapsed, with his eyes fixed on my face. He convulsed and his eyes glazed over as I kneeled near him. I never forgot those eyes. To this day, I see them."

Her husband listened to her intently, as if hearing her account for the first time. I realized that either she had not shared that experience with him or he had forgotten. We sat in silence. Her face then softened, almost to a smile. Some more moments passed. She stiffened and spoke again, not as sadly as before, yet with evident hurt, "There is something else. A strange thing that I still don't understand. There is this question: How did that cop know he wouldn't hit one of us children? I was then seven years old, maybe eight. Wasn't it strange for a child that young to have that question? Later I felt ashamed to think that I thought of the children more than of my dog. Was that cop just practicing? Just practicing? Had he ever killed a dog before? Had he killed a black child? It was so many years ago, but the questions keep returning and returning and...."

There wasn't anything there for me to say. Her husband was quiet as well. "Let's go to the examination room," I spoke and stood up.



Healing Stories

Conversations With Angels

* I Don't want Dialysis

* The First Lupus Story

* The Second Lupus Story

* A Bullet for  Hypertension
*Conversations With *Angels
*The Bite of the Neck Muscles
*The Sword Story
*The Bite of the Grey Dog
*Why and How Do Not Matter

* One Coronary Stent for Each Inning

* Mouth Opened, Prescription Delivered


  Oxygen Stories             
* Oxygenstrories
* Sourmilk                   
* Sticky Cherries             
* Rancid Butter  
* Greasy Cooking Pot         
* Oxygen Detergent
* A Pothole on a street