It sounds like something you might yell at the top of a mountain you just climbed, or in a huddle before a football match in Europe. Cho-ree-zo! However, it is a spicy Spanish sausage. Yesterday at the grocery store I … Continue reading 
So this morning we sent my youngest off on her first overnight field trip by herself. I could not sign up for it since they wanted the commitment to go in December and I had no idea what school would be like at the time of the actual trip. So she is going by herself to Space Camp in Huntsville AL. I feel a little guilty about not going now that I know my class schedule, but nothing I can do about it now but pray that she is safe and has a good time. I know I:ll miss her while she’s gone, but she is rooming with one of her good friends and the friend’s mother, who is a good buddy of mine also and knows my youngest well. So she is in good hands as far as I am concerned.
I’ve stayed up even though we got up at five this morning–the Dr. Pepper Bob brought back from their breakfast is probably why. But I feel really good today. I don’t have anything pressing to get done–I’ve finished the laundry, finished all my schoolwork, have meat out for what I plan to cook tonight–so I think I may try and do some serious writing. Don’t know what I’ll write, but that’s kind of what I have on my mind to do today.
Posted in Read Along
Well, I don’t know what tricks Dr. Awesomesauce had up his sleeve, but somehow he got a waiver from some obscure entity that allows him to continue seeing me. I’ve been wondering why I’d been called to come in for a meds check; I thought I was done there at the clinic, had even accepted it and moved on. But God is good, and He must have thought I still needed my wonderful doctor…and so I have him, at least for another few months.
It was great to see him again. It’s been four months, the longest I’ve ever gone between visits. He has put on a few pounds—in all the time I’ve known him, I’ve never seen him overweight—but it’s kind of endearing. (Funny how he didn’t nag me about exercise this time.) He’s had a tough time of things in recent months and has probably been stuffing it down with too many groceries. I can certainly relate to that. And although this visit was supposed to be a med check, we only talked about meds very briefly…the rest of the time we spent catching up on life events, like Will going on hospice and my older son getting married.
I also confessed to a little spring hypomania after being launched out of the mild depression I had during the winter, but he seemed relatively unconcerned and even suggested we try reducing one of the anti-psychotics. I, on the other hand, don’t think I want to futz around with what works. Maybe I’ll try cutting down on the Geodon; I did fine when I went from 80 mg to 60. I just don’t feel confident enough yet to mess with the magic formula, and he’s not pushing it (although he definitely wants me to try tapering at least one of the APs at some point).
But what amazes me is that he went to extraordinary lengths to enable me to remain in his care. He’s always gone above and beyond for me, but I never expected this. It made me even more glad I’d remembered to bring in the thank-you card I bought the other day. It featured a certain species of tropical bird on the front of it and the words “Here’s a ‘toucan’ of my appreciation” on the inside. He was cracking up even before he got the thing all the way out of the envelope. “That. is. AWESOME,” he laughed. “I’m gonna put this on the wall in my office. But what are you thanking me for?”
“Everything,” I said in all seriousness. “You’ve been my cheerleader, life coach, and advocate. I probably wouldn’t even be here if it weren’t for you. I just wanted you to know how much I appreciate all you’ve done to help me.”
It’s true; I’ve discussed it with you all on numerous occasions, but I’ve never told him in so many words. It made his day though, and I’m glad I said it. I know what it’s like to be the healthcare provider; it is a hard, and very often thankless job. Doctors aren’t immune to the stress and the lack of positive reinforcement either, and they need words of encouragement like the rest of us.
So for the time being I’m back with my favorite mental healthcare person, but will continue with my psych NP and therapist because I’ll need them when I have to transition. I’ve come to realize I need more therapy than either Dr. A or Sarah can offer me, and I can call Kathy anytime I feel an appointment is necessary.
I am truly blessed.
Posted in Read Along
Well, I don’t know what tricks Dr. Awesomesauce had up his sleeve, but somehow he got a waiver from some obscure entity that allows him to continue seeing me. I’ve been wondering why I’d been called to come in for a meds check; I thought I was done there at the clinic, had even accepted it and moved on. But God is good, and He must have thought I still needed my wonderful doctor…and so I have him, at least for another few months.
It was great to see him again. It’s been four months, the longest I’ve ever gone between visits. He has put on a few pounds—in all the time I’ve known him, I’ve never seen him overweight—but it’s kind of endearing. (Funny how he didn’t nag me about exercise this time.) He’s had a tough time of things in recent months and has probably been stuffing it down with too many groceries. I can certainly relate to that. And although this visit was supposed to be a med check, we only talked about meds very briefly…the rest of the time we spent catching up on life events, like Will going on hospice and my older son getting married.
I also confessed to a little spring hypomania after being launched out of the mild depression I had during the winter, but he seemed relatively unconcerned and even suggested we try reducing one of the anti-psychotics. I, on the other hand, don’t think I want to futz around with what works. Maybe I’ll try cutting down on the Geodon; I did fine when I went from 80 mg to 60. I just don’t feel confident enough yet to mess with the magic formula, and he’s not pushing it (although he definitely wants me to try tapering at least one of the APs at some point).
But what amazes me is that he went to extraordinary lengths to enable me to remain in his care. He’s always gone above and beyond for me, but I never expected this. It made me even more glad I’d remembered to bring in the thank-you card I bought the other day. It featured a certain species of tropical bird on the front of it and the words “Here’s a ‘toucan’ of my appreciation” on the inside. He was cracking up even before he got the thing all the way out of the envelope. “That. is. AWESOME,” he laughed. “I’m gonna put this on the wall in my office. But what are you thanking me for?”
“Everything,” I said in all seriousness. “You’ve been my cheerleader, life coach, and advocate. I probably wouldn’t even be here if it weren’t for you. I just wanted you to know how much I appreciate all you’ve done to help me.”
It’s true; I’ve discussed it with you all on numerous occasions, but I’ve never told him in so many words. It made his day though, and I’m glad I said it. I know what it’s like to be the healthcare provider; it is a hard, and very often thankless job. Doctors aren’t immune to the stress and the lack of positive reinforcement either, and they need words of encouragement like the rest of us.
So for the time being I’m back with my favorite mental healthcare person, but will continue with my psych NP and therapist because I’ll need them when I have to transition. I’ve come to realize I need more therapy than either Dr. A or Sarah can offer me, and I can call Kathy anytime I feel an appointment is necessary.
I am truly blessed.
Posted in Read Along
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So much for good intentions.
Melanie, my host in Golden Valley, lassoed me as I was loading the car, and we ended up gabbing for an hour in a sort of open-air living room; old couch, recliner, and side table under a trellis in the front yard. Magnificent view and another magical connection.
I cut loose before she could give me a tour of the property, though. Like Mr. Frost, I had promises to keep. And miles to go before I sleep. Miles to go before I sleep.
So off I went across Arizona, through Hopi, Navajo and Ute land. There, buttes and mesas dominate; brick-red sedimentary formations. Sometimes ponies pastured on top of them, which made for an unbelievably cinematic silhouette against the cloudy sky.
I spent most of the day on a two-lane highway with no rest stops and long patches of nothing between gas stations. We women of a certain age don’t do well without regular “rest” stops. Luckily, I grew up on a farm and knew how to duck into a cow path off the road. Some skills never die.
I had texted my friend, Robert, and my Durango hosts about being late. Robert said not to worry. I never heard back from my hosts. So, when I got to their drive, and the gate was chained and locked, I fretted. Soon, Ginger drove down the lane toward me. They thought I was coming the next night. What worried me even more was that Robert said the same thing; he thought I was coming the next day and couldn’t have dinner with me tonight.
Did I get my dates mixed up? It would have been so easy to do with all these B&Bs to keep straight. I had a text exchange with my sister earlier in the day, and she noted that I didn’t give myself much down-time or slack in my schedule. True. And no place for fuck-ups.
All this really threw me. Even though Robert and I made plans to meet for coffee tomorrow morning, even though Ginger apologized and said they’d looked at their AirBNB calendar wrong, I had to sit in my car for a while and bawl.
I know I’m tired, which makes me more reactive. It also makes me more rigid (Go With The Flow went). I felt choked by disappointment and embarrassed by weeping in front of strangers. And really bipolar.
A teensy part of me watched all of it happen. That part cooked Ramen noodles. That part talked to Ginger and Phil about their old dog, Zeke. That part took a deep breath and held the exhaustion tenderly. That part of me is okay.
It’s getting bigger by the minute, that teensy part. Pretty soon, all of me will be okay.
Again.
And still.
•
I’ve made mention but mainly, I have been self absorbed, selfish, and focused on my problems. Which frankly…
The not-yet-thirty years old girl who died last week doesn’t even have the luxury of bitching anymore. She left behind a little boy.
The gossip mill has spouted everything from she was home alone five days and her pet dog ate her face and throat…to she was in a depression from a miscarriage thus depressed…then the rumor that her and the bf had a fight about finances so he left her bruised and she overdosed to escape it all…
29 years old.
The girl that last year I was all venomous toward because R’s daughter had basically opted me out and said “C is gonna help you, you are gonna help her instead of Niki.”
So I was nice but silently seething.
And now I feel like an absolute horrible human being.
Talk about perspective.
I know, logically, and long ago, that C had slipped into a life of drugs and, well, debauchery. Her priorities were a faceful of piercings as opposed to just taking them out and trying to assimilate if it’s necessary. I would yank out every lock of my hair if it’d cancel out the bipolar and make me employable.
I still feel shitty.
I went to the funeral home site and left a second virtual candle and message in her honor. It’s not hypocrisy. This is just honesty. I get all tiger mom when someone might be putting me in a bind where I can’t take care of my kid…It doesn’t mean I wished this girl harm.
Her age might say, woman, but for all considerations…she was a girl without a clue.
Now her son has no mom.
Her mom has no daughter.
Her brother has no sister.
And I still maintain my complaints are legit because damn it, driving a death trap and raising a hellion in addition to being bipolar and having anxiety disorder ARE problematic…
But I am gonna swallow my pride and my complaints and be a decent human being….
This post is dedicated to Chianna. May you rest in peace, sweetie.
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