What the hell?

"140 over 78," the phlebotomist said, as if it were normal.

"What? Are you sure about that? I usually run about 110 over 70," I replied, obviously shocked.

"Probably just nerves," he brushed my concerns off and continued to set me up for the blood donation.

Nerves. I've donated blood and been stabbed by fresh IV students so many times that getting poked (especially by someone who has actually done it on a human before) is really no big deal to me at all. And if it was nerves... why was my heart rate normal? I shrugged it off and blamed it on his poor BP skills.

The next day while we were teaching the SAR probies how to take vitals I had my friend, an EMT, take my BP. I was in my element. I couldn't be more relaxed being at my second home around my second family working on something that I love... there was no possibility of "nerves" interfering with my vital signs here.

I watched the little arrow fall as he took my BP... "that was early..." I thought to myself when I felt my pulse return with a vengence. He made a strange face and said "Yeah... it's about 140/80."

"You're just fucking with me."

"No. I'm sorry. I swear it's 140/80."

"Shit. Shit shit shit shit. What the hell? What's wrong with me?"

I knew he was right... I could feel that it was high while he was taking it. The probationary members, not really understanding what this blood pressure business is all about yet, shifted in their seats uncomfortably and smiled nervously.

I'm a healthy 18-year-old, in better than average shape that's consistently had a BP of 110/70 for the past year - as recorded hundreds of time due to being in an EMT class and other medical-ish classes. Until now.

Then I started thinking (probably overthinking) about other stuff that's happened lately. The sporadic episodes of palpitations and sharp chest pain that I attributed to innocuous PVCs related to my screwed-up sleep schedule and stress. The innocent heart murmur.

I'm calling the doctor today.