Why it's normal to cheat on health tests

It happens every time I go to the doctor. After the interminable wait, they move me to the staging area, then take my blood pressure and measure my pulse. I assume it's a challenge, so I try to reduce my pulse to that of an iguana and make my blood pressure as low as possible.

The goal: A pulse rate of less than 60 beats per minute. A blood pressure below 120 over 80 (a standard which I know only from watching medical shows on TV as a child).

It's a competition.

There is no reason for this competition. I doubt I can affect medical tests. If I could, there's no benefit. Yet I do it every time, because I want to "win" and  avoid the repercussions of a bad health test.

Even if a "bad" test is accurate and helps my doctor treat me.

I will do everything I can to win the test.

Pathetic? It isn't anything new. I also suspect I'm not alone in trying to game the system.

It started in elementary school, when they would bring in the meanest man in the world to conduct hearing tests for us on a special school bus, loaded with equipment.

He would require us to raise our hands when we heard a noise. Right hand when we heard it in our right ear, left hand when we heard it in our left ear.

The meanest man in the world terrified me, but I really, really wanted to do well on the test. It didn't matter if I needed help with my hearing, I wanted to shine on the test . . . so I would watch others to make sure I didn't miss a sound. Occasionally, I raised a hand to silence, because . . . I wanted to do well on the test.

That makes sense, in a way. I was a kid. I didn't want to have one-on-one interaction with the meanest man in the world (which probably wouldn't happen, but I didn't know for sure).

I'm not a kid now. But I still cheat on health tests.

So do many of us, regardless of the illogical nature of it.

Want another example? Watch anyone who goes to the optometrist – or the DMV – for an eye exam. The good doctor will put up that chart of letters and ask us to read it.

"A, X, J, P, T."

"OK, the next line down."

"P, F, T, J . . .  Q?"

"OK, one more down."

"(We can't read it, but we try anyway, hoping to guess right) A . . . J? . . . P? . . . F? . . ."

The test is to see how our vision works. We think that maybe we can guess right and avoid the news that our vision has deteriorated. We want to beat the test.

Frankly, if you told me there was a version of the eye chart on the internet (which may be true), I would consider memorizing it to make my eyesight seem better to my doctor. It's nonsensical, but true.

I guess there's something charming, yet foolish in trying to beat health tests. It's the same thing that makes us floss our teeth ferociously before we visit the dentist.

When someone says they've cheated death, perhaps we all inwardly admire them. Because we spend so much time trying to cheat health tests, which might be connected to cheating death.

Now let me see if I can find an eye chart on the internet. I've got an appointment in a few months . . .

Reach Brad Stanhope at bradstanhope@hotmail.com.