Nice post, thank you.

I am sure it will help many people facing similar events.

John



Wizard of Draws wrote:
June 2007. I failed my 3rd class medical exam and was grounded. I am 50
years old, 5'9", 158 lbs. No family history of hypertension. But due to a
number of current stress factors in my life, mother in law and father in law
both passing away recently and suddenly, the work of disposing of the
estate, a promotion at work entailing additional duties and
responsibilities, a consistent lunch menu of Chinese food, and white coat
syndrome, my blood pressure was elevated over the FAA acceptable limits.

When a second visit to the AME the next day resulted in even higher
readings, he was forced to send the paperwork to Oklahoma City with his
findings. Note to self, don't drink coca-cola for lunch right before your BP
test.

I scheduled a visit with my personal doctor and he did the whole 9 yards,
EKG, blood and all. The only thing he found wrong was high blood pressure of
course, and that my cholesterol can be lowered a bit. But the BP was enough
to have him start me on 5 mg Lisinopril and 25 mg Hydrochlorothiazide daily.

I don't like taking drugs. I don't smoke, drink and never have. I push
through pain of headaches when I get them, which is pretty rare anyway,
thinking it's best to let my body rely on it's own coping mechanisms. Sorta
'what doesn't kill me, makes me stronger' mentality. This is not making me
happy, on top of not being able to fly. I grumble and fuss.

I begin to run. Long ago, before 30 years of monotony, er, monogamy and
kids, in the Land of Fruits and Nuts, I ran. 10 miles every other day at the
beach. I loved it. If I couldn't run for a few days for whatever reason, my
legs would get twitchy and the pent-up energy would explode the next time
out. If you've never had a runner's high, I can tell you it's amazing. You
feel as if you can run forever.

But now... now it's a bitch trying to get those 18 year old legs back. My
lungs are back after 2 months of slogging 3 miles every other day in the
heat and humidity of North Georgia, but the knees and ankles are still
protesting quite loudly. A good pair of running shoes help, but on some days
they help too much. I begin to feel comfortable with small glimpses of the
ol' high and end up pushing it too much, paying for it the next day with
very sore Achilles tendons.

Two more checkup visits to my personal doc, a new one this time, and he
feels the need to change the meds to 10 mg Lisinopril and 12.5 mg HCTZ.
Sigh. At least it's combined into a single pill now, so I don't have 2
prescriptions that run out alternately. But the doc says now he has enough
info to write the FAA a letter and let them know my medical status. So he
did. And I waited, not knowing how long the paperwork would take to work
it's way through the system. Surprisingly it isn't that long. Ten business
days after the letter was mailed, I received a medical certificate back from
the FAA.

I can fly again.