thank you blue and brain….

Oh my god, oh my god….

Earlier, Blue was sniffing around the woodpile on my carport, which she often does when hunting blue-tailed skinks. This time, however, she was unusually jumpy and not as vocal. And for good reason, because as the next door neighbor kids i hired to move the wood got into the pile a bit, we all heard the telltale sound of a snake shaking it’s tail in the leaves as a warning.

Turns out there were two juvenile copperheads in the pile of wood and accumulated leaves!!!!! Both about a foot and a half long and quite capable of delivering a dangerous bite. Poor things. They tried to warn us off, but both lost their heads in the end.

Because i do shit like this, when their heads were safely detached from their body i used a stick to open one’s mouth and check out the fangs. So cool. The fangs were about a half inch long, which seemed long but i guess they have to be long enough to get through fur and skin. By this time, Blue was going apeshit in the kitchen, so i let her out and gave her a body to do what dogs do with snakes. She’s been “playing” with it for about an hour now. “STFU with the barking Blue, i know about the snake – i gave it to you”.

I cleared away all the leaves and empty sunflower seed shells (i get why the snakes were there) and the kids re-piled the wood and i’ve stopped shaking and sweating.

So, thank you Blue for not giving up and for acting different enough for me to notice and thank you brain for not blowing off her anomalous behavior.

Doc

PS: while all the snake business was unfolding, i got a text from my sister telling me that my reminder for next weeks’ psych. appt was called to my father, my childhood abuser. WTF? So much for HIPPA and their rules. According to the office supervisor, she offered that “they must have taken his number from hospital paperwork ( from YEARS before ). I am freaking pissed off. I’m serial.

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I’ve never been robbed before

I’m shaking all over and trying not to cry but i want to. This morning when i checked my wallet to make sure i had cash to tip my hairdresser, i found my wallet empty. I had about $70.00 in there.

I immediately went upstairs to check the contents of my lock box – where i keep emergency cash and an important selection of medication – you know, in case of the zombie (or trump ) apocalypse. Approx. $700.00 AND some leftover hydrocodone was missing!!!! It appears my stash of antibiotics, steroids , psych meds etc. are untouched but when i am calmer i will check more closely.

For the past 5 weeks, i have had several young men in my house working to repair old, peeling drywall in preparation for painting (and other fabulous ideas i have). I generally – despite what my T says/thinks – trust people. Until they fuck me over and then it is SO over.

I have tried to think clearly and not leap to accusations but i find i can neither offer an alternative nor believe that anyone but one of these people have stolen from me.

I’ve contacted and now spoken to the owner of the business, who has come and removed the young man that was working this morning.
The owner’s stated plan is to discharge the kid that’s here and try to ascertain who is responsible. According to him, there could be someone else ( who has also been in my house ) involved.

1:45pm update – I just got a call from the kid (j) who was here today and he confessed to stealing the cash and taking the narcotics – which he claims he sold. He says he robbed me weeks ago which pissed me off further b/c how dare he steal from me and then show up here day in and day out like nothing happened. I am so mad right now. I told j that i hope he realizes he will be spending time in jail for this – but i’m bluffing, i’m just trying to scare the shit out of him and make him think. I’m not trying to make this worse or ruin his chances at turning this around, but i don’t want to hear any lip about how sorry he is and how ashamed he is of himself.

What’s bothering me also is how or even DO i proceed with this company?

3:20pm update – I have met with the owner again. He seems sincere and as upset as i feel. He has offered to bring in an older, more experienced drywaller to finish the job, if i agree to continue doing business with his company. I have agreed to let them finish the job. I was going to hire this handyman company to go onto the painting, the installation of my new hardwood floors, and the bathroom remodels BUT now, i need time to think.
PS: o yeah, the owner also has 48 hours to pay me back the money that was stolen ( i uped the amount by $300.00 for pain and suffering – mine) and have asked him not to tell j that his arrest is not pending. I think a little worried squirming will do the boy good.

Doc

i could have poisoned him

Not that i would.  Maybe i’m just a little paranoid at the moment.  Not that i believe someone is going to poison me but i’m just a little more aware of “possibilities” today.

The “him” i reference is one of the young men currently working day after day in my house doing drywall repair. ( I just had to angle the laptop screen so that he can’t see what i’m writing. )    I think i’m just growing tired of the constant presence of people in  my space.  All of which i initiated, of course.  They didn’t descend on me uninvited.   Still, i am more than ready for it to be over.

The young worker took yesterday off because of shoulder pain.  Another delay.  So, when he arrived at the house this morning i asked if he had taken anything for the pain.  He told me no, he didn’t have anything to take.  “Here, take this naproxen” and he promptly swallowed it.

Obviously, he trusts me.  But, for some reason, i fantasized about how easy it would have been to deceive him and slip him a fatal potion.

I need to find something else to do.

Doc

my new provider – maybe

I waited 9 weeks for an appt. with my first ever psychiatric nurse practitioner. I have a soft spot for nurses – used to be one – but she is associated with the SOB psychiatrist i came to despise while inpt. locally a few years ago. However, my T assured me, when he suggested the NP, that the SOB only sees pts. in the next county over. (If you’re wrong i will kill you, David.)

I decided to try someone else after finally seeing that my pdoc of 5 years was really not trying anymore (or maybe that is me). At any rate, at my last visit with him when i was clearly manic, he told me to call if i wanted some seroquel otherwise come back in 3 months. I’m fairly new to the notion of bipolarity but from reading the blogs of sufferers it seems that most folks DO SOMETHING DIFFERENT when they feel mania approaching or find it in residence.

The visit went well, she called me by my preferred name (not my official name which i’ve always hated and try to pretend i can’t hear), and she took her time to get to know me and i wasn’t a complete lunatic – OK, maybe just a little but hey look at where i was.

I rated myself a 12 on the 0(fatally depressed) to 20(fatally manic) scale with 10 being ‘normal’. We reviewed my arms – length list of previously tried meds. and she suggested i start aripiprazole again as a “mood stabilizer’ because ‘what goes up, must come down’. I’ve heard that somewhere.

BUT…. aripiprazole is an AT antipsychotic, not really a mood stabilizer in the strict sense and i’m feeling lied to. Lying to me is so very much a deal breaker. This drug has anti-manic properties and honestly i’m quite enjoying my hypomania after being crippled so long by depression. I don’t want it to end yet (ever).

Maybe i don’t understand. Does medicating to prevent depression have to mean eradicating the mania, even if it is mild and desirable? Maybe the dosage is the key to the desired effect of antidepressant. Maybe at my dosage my mania will be untouched.

For now, i will take it. This fucking med costs almost $900.00 for a 1 month supply and thankfully Medicare covered all but $88.00. But, sadly, if i come to believe that my PNP is trying to lie to me again, i will have to runn oft – homage to O’ Brother, where art thou?

Doc

PS : I asked her if she would prescribe medical marijuana for me and sadly she cited her experiences with “young people who became psychotic after smoking pot” and said no. Damn. I will have to keep looking.

distraught over the dog

Blue is alive and happy and well. I am alive. I wasn’t sure i wanted to write about this, but i’m hoping by putting it to paper that i can let go of some of the bad feelings.

This past weekend blue and i went to the farm for our (nearly) daily walk. She decidedly needs the off leash exercise and the socialization with her 3 cousins. For most of the walk the pack stayed within earshot or sight. At the apex of our route, 3 of them took off quietly, leaving me with the great dane who never strays far. OK, i thought – they’ll be back shortly. I decided to continue walking back to the truck because they can catch up quickly.

But, on the way back, my anxiety ramped up and by the time i got to the truck i was sobbing. I have and have had moderately bad, somewhat irrational fear that she will either end up run over, shot dead or just disappear – never to be found. These fears are not without some basis in possibility as one day , on a walk, i got a call from a stranger who had found blue running along the highway just off the farm property. She was unhurt and oblivious to my concerns about her safety. I didn’t walk her on that side of the farm for weeks, terrified she would, in the end, return to the road and be killed. I lost my 11 month old GSP to a car probably 12 years ago now and i can still remember the thud and feeling her heart stop on the side of the road that day.

It doesn’t take much these days to start my anxiety. In part, i believe, because blue was given to me to help with my depression from losing my 11 yo GSP to illness. I did not have (or know) that i had MH issues before her death sent me to hell.

Now, i am the one in this relationship with separation anxiety. And it is so bad.

Long story short, i sat on the tailgate, sobbing uncontrollably for about 45 mins. until i caught sight of her across the field – looking for me. Even when i got her in my hands i could not stop crying and i wasn’t ‘right’ until the next day.

I’ve told my T multiple times that ‘the dog is going to kill me’ and i firmly believe it. As i sat, waiting, i became suicidal knowing i could not live if she dies. I don’t know how to stop these thoughts. I started taking CBD paste recently in an attempt to lessen my anxiety but i don’t see much change in my thinking. I have some leftover buspar that i may try.

I can’t (don’t want to) condemn her to a life without her friends or unrestrained exercise because she would suffer and become unhappy. I just can’t do it. But every day that comes i have to decide if we are going or not. Like the pain of childbirth, i seem to forget how truly bad it is when she is out of sight for more than a few mins. and soon i am distraught until i have her back safely (so far).

Today, i agreed to go to the farm to let my sister’s dogs out since she is away and my bil is working all day. I am terrified. How can i make this better? If she dies, i will follow.

Doc

adventures in trucking

There is a spider living inside of my truck.  I’ve never seen her but her silken handiwork gives her away.  So far, i’ve only found strands in front of the steering wheel going from somewhere to somewhere else.  Have never seen any dead or paralyzed insect meals awaiting their fate.  Although there was a rather frenetic mosquito trying to exit through the window next to my ear the other day.  I can go days without leaving the house so i’m not sure how long it had been trapped inside the cab.  Since i can’t stand mosquitoes, i smashed it against the unyielding window probably denying my arachnid passenger the chance of a meal.  Tough titties or tough spinnerets, whatever.

After i bought the truck i was [delusionally] trying to protect the seats from the inevitable dog mess.  You know –  horse shit, deer shit and all the other shit that dogs routinely roll in and unfortunately, often eat.   To that end, i covered my cloth seats with a thin fleece blanket that also happened to match the inside. I failed to foresee that as Blue moved across the blanket from me to her side, she was generating a static charge.   A few shocks later and  now she won’t just lay down as we travel to the farm for her walks;  she INSISTS on trying to squeeze her 45 pounds onto my lap as i’m trying to drive.  Because i’m easy, i have learned to accommodate her neediness.  OK, i caved.   Since she’s anxious anyway, any deviation on my part from the road onto the goddamned rumble strips sends her leaping up in dismay.  It’s bad enough to know other drivers are judging me for my lack of concentration but i don’t appreciate the dog adding her 2 cents.

 

The other problem with having her  mostly on my lap is that when i need to make a turn, i have to suck in my belly fat to make room to move the wheel.   Way to body shame, Blue.

 

One very annoying ‘feature’ that comes included is that the tail gate locks when you lock up the truck, but it doesn’t unlock when i unlock the door UNLESS i double click the unlock button on the remote.  Some nonsense about helping to prevent tail gate theft.  All i know is that when i get to the dump with my trash, i want the motherfucking tail gate to open.  So, i either have to shut off the truck, remove the key and double click the remote or remember to bring the second remote along for the ride.  Pisses me off.

 

A poor design somehow led Ford to put the panic/alarm button right next to the lock button on the remote.  Can’t remember how many times i’ve set it off by accident [and my big thumbs].

 

I’m getting used to the auto start and stop feature on the truck.  Luckily it’s function can be disabled for city driving.  Since i am country driving, i can see that it does help to conserve fuel when sitting at traffic lights but it’s taken months for Blue to adjust to it without her leaping up from my  lap every time the engine restarts.

 

I also stubbornly admit that i have grown to enjoy the automatic transmission even though i still occasionally reach for the stick.   The power windows are also nice as long as i don’t strangle Blue putting them up.

 

Overall, i’m glad i bought the new truck and i’m very glad i didn’t end up being filmed by Live PD  for reckless driving or reckless endangerment or reckless one-thing-or-another because i drive with a dog wedged between my gut and the wheel.  I don’t think the excuse of ‘my dog made me do it’ is gonna fly with a county sheriff.

 

Doc

 

 

 

 

F33.1, still?

I saw my shrink again last week.  It had been 3 months since our last encounter when i told him i was stopping all my meds.  He told me then to come back in 3 months [last week] but i honestly didn’t believe i would ever see him again.

 

I began to wean off of my meds and almost immediately started into a hypomanic phase. My first, no-denying-it manic episode and it’s been [mostly] lovely.   I was convinced that my MDD was actually bipolar disorder, something my T has asserted for a while.   It’s been, like, 2 months and everyday that i wake up and feel the energy and the smile on my face, i rejoice.  I have been depressed for so long  [YEARS] that it feels like this is a gift.

 

The triangle relationship i have had between myself, my shrink, and my T,  however, is not a gift, not cool, and  probably not going to continue.  It seems that my shrink and T used to work together on the inpatient psych floor of my local community hospital and consequently and unfortunately,  neither can stand the other.   This dynamic has, over time, made it really hard for me.  There have been times when i really needed my T to share info/thoughts with my shrink but it never happens.  You know, coordinated care and all that crap.

 

So, anyway,  i was obviously hypomanic last week when i returned to get my ‘if you won’t take meds,then piss off” speech.  To his credit, he did notice my animated mood, asking me “are you on illicit drugs?”   Um, no.  Followed by “has anyone ever told you that you are bipolar?”  Um, yes [just not you].  I told him that i was having great difficulty staying asleep and was smoking pot in the wee hours just to get back to sleep.  He nodded, flipping back  and forth through my file, and told me to take hydroxyzine.  He also said that if i felt “out of control” that we might need the “big guns” – he mentioned seroquel, zyprexa, and risperidal.  No thanks, but i felt that at the least he was in agreement with a bipolar diagnosis.

 

But as i was checked out at the front desk, i saw that my dx code was still F33.1 – is MDD, recurrent, moderate.

Motherfucker!

 

I now have an appt. with a psych nurse practitioner at the end of september.  Time for another opinion, i think.  Plus, nurses rock!

 

Doc