Showing posts with label Psychiatrist. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Psychiatrist. Show all posts

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.

Unbelievable

I saw a psychiatrist on Thursday to get some insight on medication to help me with my depression and anxiety. My OBGYN started me on Lex.apro 2 weeks ago, but urged that I needed someone more schooled in dealing with the complexity of my issues. She gave me a list of names and I picked one (the only woman on the list). I filled out this huge packet of information and met with her for about an hour. I hate not knowing who this person is that I am going to trust with very sensitive information. She was old, probably as old as my grandmother... which is fine for some, but I prefer my doctors to be in their 30's and 40's. She wasn't very personable and had a peculiar "bedside manner". We eventually got to the issue of my abuse and she started asking me about specific details which I have not shared with my therapist yet, and I've been going to her for 4 months. This was the exact conversation:

Psych: "How old were you when it started?"
Me: "13"
Psych: "How often did it happen?"
Me: "For me, once. My sister was abused about a year."
Psych: "Was there intercourse?"
Me: "No"

Psych: "Just fondling then?"

Ummm. I'm sorry. JUST that? Well geez, what am I doing there if it was JUST that? I mean surely one can get over it if it was JUST once, and JUST that right? I could not believe she said that to me. I took a few seconds to answer her because I couldn't believe this was happening. It would have been different if her question was asked as clarification, but the tone to her voice was nothing close to it. I couldn't get out of there fast enough. I went home and was just in shock. I spent most of the night crying. I did manage to journal about it so I can bring it up in session on Tuesday, but it has really affected me. It makes me doubt myself so much when I continue to think that surely it is not that big of a deal to have affected my life this much, but my heart knows that it is huge. And my brain remembers no one reacted as if it was huge. No one reacted at all.

My anxiety flared up again today. We're right on the cusp of when my "bad weeks" start, so it's possible that the Lexa.pro won't have much of an effect this cycle since I haven't been on it long enough. I'm going back to the OBGYN for my next Gar.dasil shot in about a month and will ask to be put on birth control to help regulate my hormones if the Lex.apro hasn't started helping by then. I hate living my life knowing that I am going to be in a dark hole for 2 weeks out of every month. It's very hard to enjoy the good weeks when the bad ones are lurking in front of you.

A Beginning

I finally was able to get in to see my OBGYN today. I was extremely nervous about the conversation that I was going to have to have with her about how out of control my anxiety as been, as well as it being coupled with depression and suicidal ideations. After having multiple panic attacks last week in her office, I was worried about what she was going to think of me, but it just goes to show that I always assume the worst from everyone. She was really easy to talk to today, probably because she already knew so much about my history. She gave me a start-up pack for Eff.exor (after first recommending Lex.apro) but stressed to me that with the complexity of my mood disorders and past that she was going to send me to a psychiatrist. She said once he prescribes/regulates my medication that she will still have me follow-up with her based on his diagnosis/recommendations. I hadn't heard much about Effexor, except from my friend who is a nurse... she said to stay away from Eff.exor at all costs. So after researching it a bit more on Web.MD I read some absolutely awful things about it. I called my aunt (who's a GP) and talked to her about it and she said that I could start Lex.apro again if I felt more comfortable with it. I was on Lexapro a year ago but stopped taking it when I had an emergence of suicidal ideations during the week I was menstruating. That continued to happen so I thought it was caused by the medication, so I stopped taking it. Now it happens all the time, so it definitely was not the medicine. She thinks I wasn't on a high enough dose, so she said to go ahead and start 20 mg Lex.apro instead of the Effe.xor. Thankfully I had a 90 day supply that I never really tapped into, so that'll last me until I go back to follow up in 2 weeks. I just really hope she is not upset that I am choosing not to take the Eff.exor in favor of my own opinion on it, not her recommendation. Again, this is me expecting the worse.

Part of me is at peace with this decision because I know it is a beginning for me. The other part of me is scared that it's not going to work, that I will always suffer the effects of the PT.SD, panic and depression that has taken over my life. There are no guarantees in life, but sometimes a little reassurance goes a long way.