One of the most frustrating things about anxiety/depression is its ability to subside by the time you see the doctor. This happens to me fairly often and I hate it. I usually keep a list on hand to share with my specialist, let little fall through the cracks. Last visit I was coming off that crappy weekend clouded by cold medicine (plus Somara was ill to boot). We agreed to move up to something stronger because the whole holiday season was lousy, filled with frustration, anger and dread…much more than I usually feel.
The stronger stuff began slowly, half a pill for six days followed by a full one forever after. It requires some food to accompany. Gotta’ love those drugs. The initial six days went alright. A couple days into the full amount sucked. My stomach wrenched, dry heaves in the morning, exercise only killed the malaise for a while (often it jumpstarts the day as I transition into work mode) and the worst symptom; concentrating became difficult. Whenever the front of my head feels like it’s trapped in a vise, I have trouble focusing without expending a greater effort.
I had to take a few days off from work, contact the doctor on adjusting the dosage and jones out for a bit. Managed to get through it eventually. It cost me some good times over the weekend since I didn’t feel together enough to leave the house.
Not everything was negative. I took the opportunity to see the other doctor regarding my never-ending cough/congestion (this has plagued me for months). Walgreens forgot to give me some syrup in November. D’oh! This doc wants to continue with another round of the funky inhaler; I get a refill this time. He suspects allergies and/or asthma thus I am taking a weird medication I can’t pronounce easily, wait, they’re all impossible to pronounce. Next week I get to see a specialist on allergies and asthma to rule this out.
Back to the process of digging out from under the jazz I let slide while I was imprisoned by my evil twin:
- Geek Bowl VII
- Joe Bob Briggs at Alamo Ritz
- Pinballz League