Is She Crazy?

Not yet, but I'm damn well close.

I haven't slept in two days. I called my pdoc this morning (6AM) and left a message for her to call me back. I don't remember exactly what I said, but I hope I sounded urgent. The plan was to tell her the trial with the you're crazy so you need antipsychotic medicine mood stabilizer was a big time fail and that I was going to stop that and put my focus on the sleep issues. I planned to ask her for a prescription for immediate usage (Ambien, Lunesta, etc), and then later a transferral to a duplicate anti-depressive med that also can be used as a sleep aid. My focus right now is not long term. I don't care about what I'm taking to stave off something that might or might not happen in 6 weeks. If I don't get some sleep, I am going to go crazy.

So while I'm bumming around my apartment at all hours of the night, I was doing all sorts of random things. My cat was painfully aware that I was keeping her up well past her needed hours of beauty sleep, so she was very vocal about wanting to be fed for the inconvenience. While she was eating I noticed she had a small clump of hair sticking off her neck, so I went to grab her hairbrush and sat to start grooming her while she was eating. She's almost 20 years old so she can't bend and tuck as well as she used to and gets mats in her hair that I often have to dislodge and brush out. I figured this one on her neck was no different. I go to give a little tug to see if it has already been set free or if I need to settle in for work and it's pretty pliable so I tugged a little more (cat's still eating, not even paying attention to what I'm doing). Only then do I see this huge rush of blood come pouring out of a cyst she has on her neck. The thing gets drained every 6 months or so, keeps growing back but is always filled with this clear fluid so I was horrified when a little tug of her hair opened it up to a sea of red! I could see all the way into her neck. It was disgusting. So she's bleeding all over her collar, my hands and my kitchen floor, completely oblivious to my panic. She didn't even move from her meal. Of course it's like 1AM and I am freaking out! Do I take her to the emergency vet? Can I wait 6 hours for my vet to open? Ended up getting some gauze and that self sticky wrap and rigged a somewhat successful bandage of the wound to keep her away from it til I could get her to the vet. She's there right now getting fixed up. They are going to attempt to remove the growth, but they have to do it without anesthesia since she is so old. He said even if I told him not to remove it he was still going to have to stitch up her neck. Geez. He looked a little concerned when he saw her wound, but didn't say anything to me to make me think that I should be worried. I'm too sensitive. It's probably nothing. Well, not nothing. I'm guessing at least a $300 bill.

It's now 12 and still no call back from the pdoc. I am not having another sleepless night. So after talking with my aunt a little (she's a doctor and is always someone I can get advice from), she suggested just going to my family doc and getting the prescription sleep aid there. I got the last open spot at 1:30. Thank you, Jesus.

I am so deliriously tired I go from barely being able to focus, to swearing that thing just moved, to feeling as alert as if I had just woken up from 8 hrs of sleep. It's very disorienting. But even when I get so tired I don't know if I can stand up, I know if I went to lay down in bed I wouldn't sleep. I can't explain it. There is a switch in my brain that somebody kicked on to "AWAKE" and damned if my brain didn't do everything it was told to.

Things Don't Always Work Out The First Time

One of the biggest hurdles in "regular" life for me is finding doctors, dentists, etc. I won't see male doctors if there is anything I can do about it. The exception for that is my orthodontist. But I digress, his hands only touch my mouth so there is no fear with him. As for everyone else who has a hand in treating me that has to touch me anywhere else, they are all female. But even with that statement, there is much more to the decision process for me than just being female. I go through a painstaking process of reviewing the state medical board information to find only people of certain races and ages. (I have an irrational fear of Indian doctors which I think stems from some less than stellar run ins as a child involving their bedside manner) I then search online to see if I can find their medical website and a picture. I have rarely walked into an office blind, and the couple times I did, were disastrous. There is so much (irrational) fear associated with that that if I can't find a picture, I don't even consider them. I have spent most of my post-abused life learning to read people for dangerous signs, personality traits, actions, etc. A picture for me is a way to offer myself that opportunity to read that doctor.

From there I take the next step to check insurance, maybe see if I can find someone who uses the same doctor and can give me a good/bad report and take the plunge. This process has worked wonders for me in building trust with my doctors. That being said, the process puts me at a disadvantage. I have been lucky with my family doctor and my surgeon. Those fields are highly saturated with men which leaves me with a small percentage that will fully meet my criteria. Thankfully, it worked out in my favor.

Recently I have been grappling with this process, as my next step that God has put in front of me is to start seeing a psychiatrist. Something I tried once (and went in blind, having seen no picture, found no info) with a horrible outcome. I left feeling more minimized and vulnerable than when I had come in. I never went back and swore off the idea of ever going to anyone again.

But as I wrote in my previous post, my answer to a prayer to God came to me one morning. My psychiatrist that I saw when I was a teenager, I think 13-16ish. I had completely forgotten about her. I really liked her and was very comfortable talking with her. She actually listened to me. I looked her up and was ecstatic to see she was still in practice, although very far away. At that point, I'd drive however long to go to someone who already knew my history and was someone I could trust. Not only that, I checked with my insurance company and she was in network! Hallelujah! I called the number and left a message with her manager. I felt really good about this. Like I had heard God and done what he called upon me to do.

I was crushed when I got a call back and started trying to set up an appointment. There was a mistake with the insurance company and they had left her name on the list accidentally. She had terminated her contract with them when she downsized her practice and moved. She still saw patients, but on a much smaller basis as she was also currently the medical director for an in-patient/out-patient treatment center. I could see her, but it was going to cost me $300 for the first consultation and $225 each time after that. That was just too much for me to get on board with.

All of this happened Friday morning and I sat in my office so confused. Why would God give me this answer then put this roadblock up almost immediately? My first instinct was to quit, forget it. It's too hard. But something in me felt as though this really was what I needed. I accessed my insurance information and got a list of providers. I was willing to drive just about anywhere in the area if I could find someone who fit my parameters. 166 is the number I started with. 130 were male. 20 of the 36 females were Indian. 7 of the 16 females were over the age of 60. That left me with 9 prospects.

I did my homework and for various reasons (only pediatric or geriatric psychiatry, working only in hospital wards, etc) I was down to 2 people. It wasn't looking good. I typed in the first name, got almost no extra information, no website or a picture. The drive was a good hour, hour and 20 minutes (without traffic) from my city, too. Feeling as though my search was futile and a waste of time, I typed in the last name left.

I was definitely surprised when I found that she had a website (apparently it's not a common practice among psychiatrists). I browsed it, reading about her background, her practice, what she treats, etc. No picture there, but some very thorough Google searching and I was able to find a page on the children's hospital site that had her picture and matched her credentials listed on her website. The smiling face met mine with instant approval. You can just tell with some people. They're kind. They're compassionate. She met my standards 100%.

I put a call into her office (which is still a good 45 minute/hour drive from me) and left a message, hoping beyond all hopes that the secretary would call me back before the end of the work day. By then it was already 1:30 PM and with it being Friday I did not want to have to wait all weekend for more information.

Imagine my surprise when I got a call from her office, picked up the phone and it was actually her, not office staff. I almost didn't know what to say. I've never had a doctor actually call me on the phone. We talked for almost 10 minutes, me giving her the basic reason why I am coming in, her explaining her methods of treatment, fees, etc. Her cheery voice definitely put to rest any fears that I still had about the process. I hung up the phone and gave a little chuckle. Quite the test of strength and will God has put in front of me. I really do believe that this is going to be a good thing. That this is going to help me continue down the road I want to be on. That it is going to help me to heal. And not only that, I think I'm actually going to be strong enough this time to do what I wasn't able to do before.

Update

Gallbladder surgery tomorrow. Will be MIA a little while longer.

Today Was Awful

Got my sign-up time mixed up and showed up 45 minutes late to my interview.

Consultation with the surgeon. Will have to have surgery to remove my gallbladder.

Tried to hide the scars during the exam, but she saw them. Then proceeded to ask about the PTSD.

I completely shut down. I don't know how I kept from crying. I asked (begged?) her not to make me tell her why. I felt the panic wash over me and take me some place else.

I left feeling this big.

I hate being so powered by this shame.

Session tonight should be a train wreck. Perfect way to end this perfect *#&(*!@ day.

Unexpected News

The depression I was going through seems to be subsiding, for the time being. It has been a bumpy few weeks but I think I am on the better end of it now. I'm hoping the drab and dreary weather we have been having this winter is the problem. I am very anti-medication and hate the thought of having to go back on something to control my moods. As long as I can keep my thoughts focused on the positive, I can do a pretty good job of tweaking my moods too. It just takes practice.

Monday I got some news I wasn't expecting. I had a scheduled ultrasound with my OBGYN from some undiagnosed "women issues" and the tech found out that I have a rather large gallstone almost blocking the bile duct. I am probably going to need surgery to remove my gallbladder soon. I am going to my regular doctor/GP tomorrow to see what her opinion is. I'm hoping she'll say that surgery isn't necessary, but I'm realistic. I guess what I'm really hoping is that I won't have to do this during Spring Break and they say I can wait until I am off in the summer. I'm still in shock, pretty much. I've never had surgery before, never been in the hospital. I've never even had an IV before, so the prospect of having to be cut open scares the absolute #(&%(@$ out of me. Everyone keeps telling me, "Oh I had mine out, it's not a big deal. You'll be better in about 2 days!" but that is just making me mad. It is a big deal to me. I've never done it.

The shock factor has kept me pretty numb to feeling much of anything else. My session yesterday with A was pretty good, considering we are still talking about a topic I HATE to discuss. She's worried I'm teetering on a dangerous edge of addiction with this. Basically the way I view my cutting is the way an alcoholic views his drink, or a drug addict views his drugs. In the moment of pure need, it is the only thing I want to cure my ails. That is true... when I get low enough and overwhelmed enough to want to cut; then yes, that is all I want. But am I addicted to it in the specific sense of the word? No. I don't have to cut every day to be OK. I don't have to cut every time I'm upset to feel better. It's just a coping mechanism for really hard emotions. The reason I am allowing us to continue on this road (even though I want to quit talking about it so much!) is because I really think there are some big emotions and possible breakthroughs that are underneath the surface with this topic. I just need to be pushed to figure out what they are.

I love that I can be so at ease with A, even though I'm doing something I don't want to be doing. I'm so blessed to have her on my side.

As we were wrapping up the session, she was explaining what she wanted me to work on for the week and said something that made us both laugh.

Go ahead and try to go through those first three principles and re-write them with cutting as the theme.

Do you want me to go through the steps too or just the principles?

At this point I think you could do either. They are both pretty similar, but it's not going to be as cut (insert hesitation here) and dry as you think. *chuckle* Probably could have chosen a better word there.

*Laugh* Yeah. Straightforward might have been a better choice. *Laugh*

LOL. I'm glad humor can be a part of therapy.

Gardasil

Today went exactly as planned except for one small bump. Went for a medication check and my 2nd Gar.dasil shot today and was expecting a quick in and out. Last time I had a series of weird reactions (basically spikes in BP) after the shot, but attributed it to my extreme anxiety and stress level. I got my shot (which by the way hurts like hell) and headed to the front to schedule my next appointment and pay. While I was standing there waiting for her to finish her phone call I got extremely lightheaded, "fuzzy vision" and felt like I was going to throw up. I told her I needed to sit down and she yelled at the nurse for some water... yeah. Little late for that. I ended up somewhere short of the chairs, thankfully segregated from the embarrassment of passing out in the waiting room. I felt like such an idiot! A nurse for one of the other doctors administered my last injection and was like "Oh yeah! I remember you now." LOL Great. My doctor had to come back out and make sure I was OK, gave me a sweet pat on the head and told me to take my time getting up. Geez.

I came home and took a nap because I was feeling a little woozy still, then went to get my hair highlighted and trimmed a bit. I was able to schedule an appointment with someone who is really hard to get, so I was stoked. She did an awesome job on my hair. Did my grocery shopping afterwards, came home and unpacked, did the dishes and ate some dinner. I'm about to tackle a little cleaning before settling down to watch House and 24.

I have a double session tomorrow at 11 which I am kind of nervous about. I have some writing I need to do for that, but am wondering if the focus is really where it needs to be right now. Ugh. It all needs to be worked on, but I just feel like there are some things that are holding me back in my life more than others. I just pull back so much when we barely touch on certain topics, I can't imagine how hard it will be if I were to say that I would like the main focus to be that. It makes my heart race just thinking about it.