AUTHOR: Sashie TITLE: Thoughts on pharmaceuticals DATE: Sunday, July 23, 2006 ----- BODY: So after waiting far too long to visit the doc for updated prescriptions I finally forced my poor little self to the doctor about 4 weeks ago. Now I like my doctor. He's a great guy and definitely has his patients' well being at heart. He's had a bit of a hard time himself, allegedly having to quit practicing for a time to enter rehab for alcoholism. Now maybe other people would shy away from a doctor who had been to REHAB but to me that makes him human and that much more likely to understand what the depths of despair can feel like. He now volunteers at the local addiction clinic. He also just traveled to India to provide healthcare and health education classes for children in poor villages, actually traveling from place to place on horseback. So the guy should be in line for sainthood if you ask me.

I got into the room and immediately turned purple. My neck and upper arms flush when I am nervous. He walked in, we shook hands and he said "You flush when you are nervous." I nodded. He said "There is no need to be nervous. Today won't be any worse than any other time you have been in the room." I think to myself "EXACTLY." It's hard talking about yourself and your ailments with a person you see once a year. I told him how I had been struggling lately. I described my attempt to wean myself off of my meds, taking Wellbutrin every other day and halves of Celexa and finally running out of Celexa entirely and taking Wellbutrin only a few times a week. I explained that I had often felt my depression was situational, a very different childhood, abusive marriage and recent divorce caused my depression. Those things were no longer a factor. I was free so I should be free from meds, right? Our conversation went like this:

Saint Doctor: "So how have you felt taking less medication?"

Me, stupid patient: "Well, depressed I guess."

Saint Doctor: "Depressed? What type of symptoms?"

Me, stupid patient flushing purple and pink splotches: "I have felt tired, and sad. I cry about things that I shouldn't. I am irritable, do not sleep well and have trouble concentrating. Basically all those commercials on TV are dead on. I feel like the latest advertisement."

Saint Doctor: "How has this affected your daily life?"

Me, wishing I had a big Zanax to wash down RIGHT NOW: "I don't feel suicidal but sometimes I feel like it would be a lot easier to just give up. I drink too much out of boredom or sadness. I am struggling with work and doing a good job, being accurate and productive. I find it really hard to communicate with co-workers and family because I am in such a deep funk."

Saint Doctor: "Does medication help you feel better?"

Me, starting to feel really dumb: "Well yeah it definitely helps with those symptoms. I just get so frustrated that I will be taking medication for the rest of my life. I just want to be normal but here I am popping pills every day."

Saint Doctor: "Millions of people take medication. So when you are not taking medication consistently you feel depressed and anxious. When you take it you feel better. So what is the right course?"

Me, shrinking into a little midget patient, head hung low: "Taking medication."

Saint Doctor: "Right. It's likely genetic. If you were to ever attempt to stop taking medication you would need to be undergoing intensive, twice weekly therapy while you did so. Don't stop taking your meds."

Me, wondering where my logic had disappeared to: "OK."

Weekly intensive therapy? Whoa.

I left with an updated RX for Wellbutrin and some samples of Cymbalta. I have fibromyalgia and Cymbalta may be effective for the aching and muscles soreness that is a mainstay of the disease. Still determining if that is the case. Side effects hampering my love for it but it does reduce the aching.

All in all the visit reminded me that I AM AN IDIOT. --------