In breaking news that has left the nation clutching its cuffs and its pearls, doctors report that blood pressure cannot be accurately measured during a heated argument with your printer. If you were hoping to measure yours between a triple espresso and a traffic jam, congratulations—you’ve discovered performance art, not cardiology.

As your resident skeptical clinician-next-door, I’m here to say the quiet thing loudly: you can’t scare your arteries into honesty. They lie when you’re rushed, caffeinated, cross-legged, or trying to prove to your smartwatch that you are, in fact, alive.

Rule one: sit quietly for five minutes before measuring. Not “quietly” as in scrolling the apocalypse, but actually quiet. No podcast, no emails, no planning a mutiny against your inbox. Breathe like you’re auditioning for the role of Person Not Currently Fleeing A Bear.

Feet flat, back supported, and legs uncrossed. This is not prom, it’s plumbing. Pretend you’re a dignified chair potato. The cuff goes on a bare upper arm, not over a sweater, not over a jacket, and not, for the love of systolic pressure, on your cat.

Use a device that measures at the upper arm and fits your arm properly. If the cuff is too small, the reading skyrockets; if it’s too big, your artery gets stage fright. Consider a clinically validated upper arm blood pressure monitor so you’re not basing life choices on a gadget that was also recommended for ghost detection.

Rest your arm at heart level on a table, which is conveniently where tables live. A stack of cookbooks qualifies; a quivering thigh does not. If you must accessorize, park the elbow on an ergonomic armrest cushion and pretend your humerus is auditioning for the role of Level Shelf.

Do not talk during the reading. Not to your cuff, not to your dog, not to the universe. The numbers don’t want your TED Talk. Also, empty your bladder first. A full bladder can raise the score because your kidneys hate suspense.

Take two readings, one minute apart, and average them. That’s science for “don’t pin your identity on a single drama queen of a number.” Write them down like they’re cryptic entries in your secret diary, not “vibes were beige and menacing.”

Avoid caffeine, nicotine, and exercise for 30 minutes before measuring. This is blood pressure, not preworkout karaoke. If your pre-measure ritual involves lunges, a macchiato, and an existential scream, you’re measuring your lifestyle, not your arteries.

Check your device against your clinic’s at least once a year, because calibration is not a personality trait, it’s maintenance. White coat nerves are real, which is why home readings—done correctly and with fewer stethoscopes glaring at you—often tell the truth your pulse refuses to.

Common mistakes include: measuring over a sweater (that’s just sweater pressure), using a wrist cuff at belly-button altitude, crossing your legs like your femoral arteries are swapping gossip, or taking a reading mid-argument with a notification. Also, if you need three friends to yank the cuff on, it’s not a blood pressure check, it’s a medieval team-building exercise.

Do it right and the big headline isn’t “Hypertension!” but “Oh, I needed a chair, a pause, and fewer beverages that can melt a spoon.” Which, coincidentally, is also the treatment plan: hydration and a walk. Measure calmly, live calmly, and if you still need drama, argue with the printer—it’s the only thing with a higher diastolic than you.