Well, that's probably not technically irony (I'm sure C will confirm or correct), but, yes, I have yet another prescription. You know it's not good when your doctor has a serious, thoughtful expression on his face, and let's the appointment run long so we can decide on what to add or whether to just switch to something else. I can't even imagine what he was considering switching me.
In the end, we decided on adding, and he gave me a refill script for the amb.ien, and for the cym.balta. After I asked about possible effects of all the drugs on my liver and kidneys, etc., he gave me a script for bloodwork. He practically used up half a script pad on me.
As I've said, I am doing better, I know I am. I think he even changed my dx from severe to moderate. But not better enough. Especially considering the dosage and medications. And as I drove down to my appointment, I thought, I kind of feel better. And sometimes I wonder if I am, as C has suggested, sometimes resist forward movement. And then I sat down in the doctor's office and burst into tears.
He said that he thinks that the confluence of things like anniversaries and my stupid brother are making this period of grief and depression a little tougher, and he wanted to give me something to help me "get over the hump", just something temporary. Temporary? Maybe three months. Three months?? And that's not even counting the stuff for anxiety and for depression. I can feel my eggs dying off as I type. (My family history does not give me hope for long lasting fertility). I'll be 39 in July.
As he gave me each script and reviewed how to titrate the new one, I kind of shook my head or sighed, or something, and he said, I know, it seems like a lot. This is just to get you through this temporary hump.
Oh, and I screwed up the appointment time. I got this appointment right, but it conflicted with my therapist's regular time. We've had a lot of weather so this was a rescheduled pharm appt, and I thought my therapist was going to away. Mess, mess, mess.
I came home (after a brief stop at Ta.rget) instead of stopping for lunch or going to school, and found dog poop in the hall and the kitchen and a very sorry looking dog. I was only gone 6 hours, same as yesterday, and she was fine.
Dog training was fine, I guess, we have a lot of work to do. As a beagle she is so distracted, by smells... everything, and I was just not feeling it. Burst into tears as soon as we got in the car. Now the dog is sweetly snoring on her bed, and my fast food sits on my nightstand, aging, not well.
*****
Thank you all so much for all your love and comments. I love you, my friends in the computer. I want to write to you all individually to respond, but at this point I hope you'll understand and accept my undying gratitude. I don't know what I would do without you.
12 comments:
You will get through this tough time. I often wonder if it ever ends or really gets better. I think it just changes over time. If the medication is helping, you should not feel bad about that. You need to to what feels right for you.
I have two beagles and neither were successful with dog training. They are too distracted by any scent or the slightest noise. She will figure it out.
Hugs to you. I am here supporting you.
Thank you for supporting me.
Take care of you, that 's the most important thing, YOU. I hope the meds do get you over the hump and that in a few months time you are feeling some lightness in your heart and some hope for all of the possibilities that are out there for you, when you are ready for them.
xxoo
I've been thinking about you. I hope the meds help with this rough patch. I've been reading but not commenting lately - kind of just trying to keep my head above water. I'm so sorry about the brother drama.
Oh, Stella. Must you be like Delta? This your mum does not need.
One day at a time. Always listening.
sounds like your therapist is very responsive. I hope it helps you stay afloat in this lingering storm.
we are still here...
You know, I haven't wanted to say anything jinxy or stupid, but even in your writing and comments you *sound* better. They're just more . . . focussed, succinct, something. I'm imagining a voice and person saying what you write (I do with everyone) and somehow lately you sound more like you. Which is really quite speculative and stupid now that I've written it out like that.
Anyway.
Sorry about the dog, they tend to have lousy lousy timing that way. Are you crating? Might want to go back and do it while you're out, and then slowly graduate from crate to room to part of home to all of home. Just a thought.
Like Luna said, we're all still here.
If only a hug could make all this better. What I wouldn't give for that too.
Feeling better is a step in the right direction. That's something. Sometimes it's the little "somethings" we have to hold onto with everything else is in the toilet.
If you hug the computer, you can feel the hug I'm sending. :) I just hugged mine. :) Really.
I think you are doing extremely well, considering - as your doctor pointed out, there is a LOT going on right now for you to deal with besides the anniversary of losing your sons, which in itself is enough. I'm sure it doesn't feel like it right now, but you are doing amazing. We're all here for you in whatever way you need us. I'm sorry I haven't commented more lately but I have been reading regularly and thinking of you. Sometimes I just don't know what to say.
Just catching up on you today... my schedule's had me out of blogland for a few days.
I hope you can hang onto the good days, good moments, whatever you can find.
Thinking of you today, and everyday.
I'm glad the doctor is taking your rough patch so seriously (and also your liver). Hope the sun comes out a little more each day. Thinking of you and C, every day.
This shit isn't easy on the best of days. It's good your doctor isn't waving it off. I know you can do this.
Always here hun, always holding your hand (except when you clean the poo, you are on your own there.. well unless you want to help me clean my 85lb pup poo)
xoxoxoxo
Don't forget to forgive yourself.
Post a Comment