I grimaced. “It just means an elevated heart rate. It’s quite common. It can be triggered by infections, alcohol, some medications.” I studied her. “There’s no need to panic. I just like to err on the side of caution by checking these things out.”
“But you said it isn’t serious?”
I nodded. “However, in some cases, it is a sign of heart disease.”
“Heart disease?” she squeaked.
I held out my hands. “I’m not saying you have heart disease. You are overweight though.”
Pink touched her cheeks. “Well, sheesh, I’m on a diet.”
“That’s good. Do you exercise?”
She winced. “It’s just so boring. I try, but it’s such drudgery.”
I moved to the blood pressure machine on the wall. “It might be boring, but it’s important that you get at least thirty minutes four times a week.”
“Four times?” She looked like I’d asked her to climb Mount Everest.
“Yes.” I slipped the blood pressure cuff around her upper arm. “If you want to be healthy, you have to do the things that keep you healthy.”
“I suppose.”
“I suspect you still have pneumonia.”
“Really?”
“Unfortunately. I definitely hear congestion in your lungs.” I studied her. “Have you been getting lots of rest? You need to take care of yourself when you’re fighting something like pneumonia.”
“I nap sometimes.”
“Well, something is up. Your lungs don’t lie.”
She slumped. “But Dr. Martin said if I just meditated every morning first thing and drank apple cider vinegar, the pneumonia would go away.”
I stiffened. “Excuse me?”
“That’s what he said.”
I tried to keep control of my temper as I said, “When did you see Dr. Martin?”
She looked guilty. “I saw him in the lobby after my last appointment with you. We got to talking, and he was giving me some advice. He such a charming man, don’t you think?”
I ignored her question and asked, “Did you ask him for advice?”
“Not really. I was just telling him that I’d just seen you and how our appointment had gone.”
“And he suggested that you take apple cider vinegar and meditate?” I tried not to sound as angry as I felt.
She nodded.
Something about her expression made me ask, “Did you take the antibiotics I prescribed for you as well?”
There was a sheepish gleam in her eyes. “Well… You see… I explained to Dr. Martin that you had prescribed antibiotics for me but that I didn’t like taking them.”
Scowling at her, I asked, “Why don’t you like taking antibiotics?”
She shrugged. “I read somewhere they kill the good bacteria too.”