Saturday, January 01, 2005
My heart pounded extra fast when I saw that two people made comments to my blog! I never expected that. Wow. I'm, like, published.
So Cathy's comment reminded me of something I wanted to jot down. I got to see the doctor last week while I was feeling good...before I was "down" again. When I'm feeling good my mind is a lot clearer, so I can express my thoughts verbally to doctors, etc. So finally an appointment with the doctor coincided with an "up" mood! Sheesh, it's about time. Well, he's a new doctor to me, since my old one PCS'd last summer. But what a refreshing change. This guy really cared, and didn't make me feel like he was in a rush to get to the next patient. He listened to me, then read my chart and said that the last doctor wrote that it sounds like I may be mildly bipolar (cha-ching, Cathy!), no surprise to me as I've supposed it since age 17...but I hate labels, and I hate being categorized. I am me. No one else is. So that's what makes me upset about medications. Until there is one that's custom made for ME to solve all of my quirks, or at least until I experience a medication that actually WORKS for me, I will be skeptical.
With good intentions, my new doctor sent me home with a prescription that he said would take away the "downs" and would leave me feeling more "up" all the time. He said it might cause me to be too "up", to lose weight (woo-hoo!), to alter my libido (currently non-existent, that's fine with me...sex gets in the way of being productive & rational)...he said if my libido is currently on hiatus, it might come back in full force. Great. (Sarcastic.)
Well, I hadn't slept the night before because I was hyperactive...hey, that was the night we babysat the Carters. So when I got home from the doctor, I ate a sandwich, took my first pill, and took a nap. HOLY COW...when I woke up the world was in slow motion, I was ultra mellow, and very tired. I slept pretty much constantly for the next week, save it be for eating, taking care of Michael, and running errands. Didn't clean the house. Laundry piled up. Stuff all over the floor. And gosh, Michael has been vomiting at least once a day, and never in a good place. The carpets reek of vomit. This place was a pit.
Um, wasn't the medication supposed to make me feel better?!
Well, I snapped myself out of it yesterday or the day before. Save for the vomit smell in the bedroom, the house is tolerably clean now. At least livable. I would clean the carpets, but I've got a horror story that's got me hating the art of carpet cleaning. We've rented the RugDoctor twice since we've had Michael, and let me tell you, it is not fun. Hauling that thing up 4 flights of stairs is nothing compared to the tedium of using it on the carpet. Ugh. That's my horror story. I'll spare you the trite details. So I don't plan to rent the RugDoctor any time soon. Or ever again. We need to buy something that cleans rugs, is lightweight, reasonably easy to use. Any suggestions?
Back to the medication issue: He was a caring doctor who granted my request for a referral to Dr. Franco, (Stacy told me about him, an LDS psychiatrist). My doctor gave me a number to call, instructing me to call it no sooner than in three days, to ensure that the referral had been processed. So I called it on the third day, which was apparently too soon, then again on the fourth day which was Christmas Eve, so no one was in the office. So at this moment I am waiting for the holidays to be over so that someone will actually answer when I call. That would be tomorrow...Monday!
Then I'll get to the bottom of this wacky medication problem. Did it make me slo-mo and sleepy, or did I bring it on myself? What about the "up" and the increased libido that the doctor predicted? None of that here!
posted by Angela Marie at 2:18 AM
