Compression socks.
I don't know about you, but for me those two words conjure up images of Vicki Lawrence and her knee-high stockings on the set of Mama's Family. And, yet, my cardiologist seemed to think those two words would be appropriate to say to a fortysomething-year-old, who isn't quite ready to sit down and knit in her rocker just yet.
Apparently, this is all my children's fault.
He said that pregnancies put pressure on "the main artery" (wherever that is) so that the leg veins (whose job it is to defy gravity by pushing blood up toward the heart) become enlarged. Then, because the veins are wider, defying gravity becomes more like a constant job of pushing a rotund donkey up a hill when all it wants to do is roll back down.
[I might be that donkey.]
Thus, blood can potentially pool in your legs while you're on a long exciting car trip like taking your children to pick up yet another puppy the promise they will feed and water this time or flying to some exotic destination like Kansas.
Ergo, he suggested that on any trip of any length of time, I should use COMPRESSION SOCKS. Sigh. Well, in fairness, he did say something about a local anesthetic and sticking a needle in my leg. So, on second thought, socks aren't so bad.
Thankfully, there's humor to help me process this slap in the face from father time. So, I dialed up a friend (that's old people speak for "safely voice texted via CarPlay while eagerly leaving the parking lot") and told her about my test results and this bit of exciting news.
Being how she's an artist, with quite the sense of humor... she was most helpful. No, really! See for yourself...
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