Not much to report on the TMS front of life. It is what it is. Every day for nearly 90 minutes I treck the 30 miles there and back. Most days, I go in between my work shifts. (I work split shifts 90% of the time).
My tolerance level for the damn woodpecker is better. Still gives me a headache every single day. However, not as intense. Amount of tylonel being taken before is less and less. The MT was raised this week. Overall my tolerance level for being there is getting a little bit better.
The million dollar question I keep getting asked from those around me and those who know I'm doing this is "How do you feel? Can you tell a difference?" Not noticing much of a difference in the positive realm of life. I've had a few people tell me they can see a small difference. I have a hard time believing them.
Life has a way of getting in the way. Knocking you upside the head, screaming at you to wake up and pay attention. This week I got that wake up call. I had an appt scheduled with my hemotologist for Wednesday. Because my summer work schedule is on-call I never know from week to week what my days off will be and some weeks I don't know what I will be working the next day until that day. It is crap-tastic at best. However, it is the best I could do when it came to picking for summer work schedules. I cancelled my hemo appt so I didn't have to miss work. I'm trying hard to get to work and not miss. Tuesday was a rough day. It was one that just plain and simple was rough. I went to bed in hopes of sleeping. Instead, sleep was no where in sight. NOT.EVEN.CLOSE. Exchanging texts w/a friend turned to emails bc that sometimes is easier on our phones. One thing led to another and we ended up talking on the phone into the weee hours of the morning. When we hung up I had about 2 hours before my alarm would go off for work. I knew I wouldn't be able to work. Since my job is safety sensitive...sleep is a nessassary commodity.
After I called in sick to work I began thinking about the appt that I cancelled because I had to work. Hoping and praying that time slot would still be available...I called the clinic the moment they opened. I was fortuanate to get in to see the new hemotologist. So thankful I did. So thankful that I choose her. My last dr. is ill and had to leave her practice. And sometimes there are blessings among tragic circumstances. This would be one of them.
We discussed some pretty heavy things. Things that I know. Things that I don't like to hear. Things like "you will probably need IV/PICC infusions every 12-18 months for 6-9 week intervals for the rest of your life."
I am scheduled to have a PICC placed on June 14th. My last experience was rather negative. The thought of having to relive that horror again is enough to make me sick. Yet, I know it needs to be done. This morning , I got up and called the clinic and spoke to one of the treatment nurses. Letting her know that having it done sooner than later is probably for the best. Waiting 2 weeks will only increase my anxiety over the entire situation. I'm still waiting to hear if they can get me in today or next Tuesday. Given that it is late morning today, my guess is it will not be scheduled till next week.
The good news is the iron levels were not as low as they have been in the past. The TIBC direct panel is raised and shows that it is likely I've been deficiant for awhile. Which I've known. Hoping things will turn around quickly!
Showing posts with label gastric bypass. Show all posts
Showing posts with label gastric bypass. Show all posts
Friday, May 31, 2013
Sunday, May 12, 2013
Journey to Transcranial Magnetic Stimulation aka: TMS (Part One)
I'm pretty certain it wasn't an hour after she gave it to me that I made the call to the clinic. They were doing consult/intakes at no charge. At this point in the game...I had NOTHING to loose. A day or two later I received a phone call from the intake coordinator (or whomever it was) and made an appointment for a day or so later.
I went home the evening after making the appointment and googled TMS Therapy. I asked on my FB Blog page if anyone had heard about it. I had a few responses. Nobody that really had any knowledge. I read and watched the information on the Neurostar website that was provided in the pamphlet. It seemed very promising. The video in my opinion was very cheesy and fake. I came across the following videos from an excerpt on the Dr. Oz show.
Please check out these videos to learn more:
*Fair warning* Dr. Oz is a bit over the top. Which he is with many things. However, this is one of the best descriptions and "real" videos I've come across so far.
Dr. Oz Transcranial Magnetic Stimulation: nA Cure for Depression? Part One
I went to the appointment at the TMS Center. My husband went along. It was rather tough in many ways. Telling a complete stranger, someone that I had no trust in about me....and why...I was there....well...it wasn't very easy. I will just say that much. And add in that my husband was with me. It just was tough. In many ways. Any intake is tough. Plain.Cut.Simple.Dry. Little did I know then....that would be the easier part of this entire process!!!
I left with very little hope that anything would come of that appointment. I knew the treatment wouldn't be covered by my insurance. The gal was a bit more optimistic than I was. There were bits and pieces of holes that needed to be cleared up. Over the next week I received a few phone calls to get more information on my insurance coverage. I am acutely aware with what my insurance will and will not pay for. And I knew that this clinic was out of network.
End.of.Story.
I received a phone call about a week or two later telling me they had a financial assistance program and I could apply for a scholarship.
I filled the form out immediately upon receiving it in an email and sent it back the very same evening.
End.of.Story.
I received a phone call about a week or two later telling me they had a financial assistance program and I could apply for a scholarship.
I filled the form out immediately upon receiving it in an email and sent it back the very same evening.
A few weeks later I received a phone call telling me they would like to offer me a scholarship. The gal was going to email me the information immediately after talking to her.
It was awesome assistance. However, it still wasn't feasible. I tried to figure out every way imaginable to make it work. I knew I was sliding down a very slippery slope. And needed help soon.
It wasn't long after that my husband had his little mini meltdown (in my ever so humble opinion that is what I will call it). He was faced with having surgery, the possibility of having prostate cancer, and in general he was sick of my shit. I am sick of myself. I can't imagine what those who live with me must feel like. I am/wasn't faking it very well. I know that things were bad. And they weren't getting any better.
My husband was adamantly against using our tax refund towards partial payment for treatment. I spoke to my mom about borrowing the money from them. It wasn't going to be an option. I let the clinic know that we could not do it right now. We have tapped out every single penny and then some with taking out a loan with my shoulder injury. And any more debt was not feasible at this point.
I didn't hear anything again for about a month or two. Just a quick call letting me know that they had received a denial from my insurance company (not a surprise...I knew it was not going to be approved) and they had filed an appeal. However, it could take about a year for the appeal process. She informed me they had requested my medical records from my psychiatrist and therapy notes from my therapist. A day or so later I saw my therapist and she informed me she had received the request. She was not going to send all 13 years of treatment notes. However, did I agree with her sending a letter instead. I firmly believe that is/was better idea. Treatment notes can be subjective to whomever is reading/writing them.
Okay. Fine. I left it at that. I think that was the beginning of March.
Until I got a phone call...not quite a month ago...on a day that I had not gotten out of bed.
It was awesome assistance. However, it still wasn't feasible. I tried to figure out every way imaginable to make it work. I knew I was sliding down a very slippery slope. And needed help soon.
It wasn't long after that my husband had his little mini meltdown (in my ever so humble opinion that is what I will call it). He was faced with having surgery, the possibility of having prostate cancer, and in general he was sick of my shit. I am sick of myself. I can't imagine what those who live with me must feel like. I am/wasn't faking it very well. I know that things were bad. And they weren't getting any better.
My husband was adamantly against using our tax refund towards partial payment for treatment. I spoke to my mom about borrowing the money from them. It wasn't going to be an option. I let the clinic know that we could not do it right now. We have tapped out every single penny and then some with taking out a loan with my shoulder injury. And any more debt was not feasible at this point.
I didn't hear anything again for about a month or two. Just a quick call letting me know that they had received a denial from my insurance company (not a surprise...I knew it was not going to be approved) and they had filed an appeal. However, it could take about a year for the appeal process. She informed me they had requested my medical records from my psychiatrist and therapy notes from my therapist. A day or so later I saw my therapist and she informed me she had received the request. She was not going to send all 13 years of treatment notes. However, did I agree with her sending a letter instead. I firmly believe that is/was better idea. Treatment notes can be subjective to whomever is reading/writing them.
Okay. Fine. I left it at that. I think that was the beginning of March.
Until I got a phone call...not quite a month ago...on a day that I had not gotten out of bed.
There have been several days that I've not gotten out of bed in the past few months.
It's been rocky at best.
However, treatment has started.
Over the next few blog posts I will write what/how it came about.
It's been rocky at best.
However, treatment has started.
Over the next few blog posts I will write what/how it came about.
Tuesday, October 23, 2012
The Good, The Bad, The Ugly...Meds SUCK
**DISCLAIMER: This post is a representation of MY thoughts, opinions, and experiences. DO NOT stop taking your medications just because...I or anyone else say they SUCK or anything else that I may/may not say about them in this post...There. I. Said. It.**
I've not really blogged much about the medication change that transpired little over a month ago. I was hopeful on many levels. At the end of the 2nd week, I was seeing some positive changes. Still a tad reluctant of the positive effects...BUT very thankful there were some definite positives. There were negatives in the realm of side effects. That is something I'm very accustomed to at this point. I've seen my current psychiatrist going on 13 years this next spring. She knows me inside and out. I've blogged before about our love/hate relationship. I love her dearly. I hate the effects medications have had on my body. I've taken just about every.single.thing out there. After my gastric bypass, my ability to tolerate medications became much less. As in MUCH MUCH MUCH less. And so the battle continues and as I've said over the last several years....got much worse.
THE GOOD:
Medications are prescribed by doctors to assist symptoms, to target abnormal medical findings, assist and prevent illnesses. These symptoms range in anything from pain, insomnia, hallucinations, coughing, chest pain, cramping, and many more ailments. The goal of medications is ultimately to relieve symptoms. At the end of the day, the goal of medications is to get rid of ailments/symptoms and prevent something worse from happening. In many cases the goal is both....prevent and get rid of. At any rate, the goal is to normalize ones quality of life/living.
Medications work. Sometimes. In some people. They have the ability to make bad things go away and allow people to live happier, healthier, and more productive lives.
THE BAD:
The bad thing with medications is they have side effects. Take trazodone for an example. It is used as antidepressant, but it makes people sleepy. SO it is used in a sub-therapeutic (for depression) to help with insomnia. This particular example can be a good side effect. Most side effects, though, are bad. They are uncomfortable the person. They are often the reason patients stop taking their medications. Side effects are usually uncomfortable. Rarely are they fatal. Usually they are reversible. Most often these effects go away once the medication is stopped.
The interesting thing about side effects is that few of them happen to everyone that takes them. Take the side effects of SSRI's for example, a ton of people will experience sexual side effects, not everyone will. Tremors, sexual side effects, weight gain, and sleepiness are often common side effects of SSRI's and other medications used for psychiatric disorders.
I've struggled with nearly every single psychiatric medication that I've been prescribed since my gastric bypass in 2004. As a patient who struggles with severe depression, a condition that is impeding my life, it is often worth taking the risk of any given side effect. Usually, I find myself somewhat hopeful the effects may not happen.
THE UGLY: (and it can be ugly)
Side effects are unpleasant, at best. Many have rare and really ugly effects. The rare and ugly effects are actually not side effects..they are considered ADVERSE REACTIONS. They can be awful, fatal, and in rare cases irreversible. Tardive Dyskinesia is an adverse reaction, one that takes time to develop. One that was a listed as a VERY rare side effect of a medication I took about a year ago. The usual response to the UGLY is to stop the medication ASAP.
Increased depression, self injury, suicidal ideation in my opinion falls under the ugly category. This medication is prescribed to relieve these very symptoms and then it increases it. Occasionally, these reactions/effects can lesson after a few days. In some cases, they continue to get worse and worse. Until there is no choice to stop the medication immediately.
THE MEDS SUCK:
I'm currently in the VERY UGLY portion of taking a new(er) medication. The last paragraph describes what life has been in the last few weeks. Each and every day increasingly getting worse. The last few days have been hell. I've been here before. I've experienced this before. I spoke with Jodi last night about the effects. My pdoc is not in the office at the time. Seeing someone else is not really an option. And I've been this route enough times to know that I need to stop the medication immediately before I end up in the hospital. Jodi and I discussed taking it every other day. The suicidal ideation wasn't as horrific, was manageable, and not constant prior to reaching the full dose. I'm unable to cut the medication in half, therefore, taking it every other day was the option that seemed like the best action to take. Giving that a try was something that I was willing to give a try. After today, I don't believe I will be taking it again. At least not until I can see my doctor in a few weeks.
I've not really blogged much about the medication change that transpired little over a month ago. I was hopeful on many levels. At the end of the 2nd week, I was seeing some positive changes. Still a tad reluctant of the positive effects...BUT very thankful there were some definite positives. There were negatives in the realm of side effects. That is something I'm very accustomed to at this point. I've seen my current psychiatrist going on 13 years this next spring. She knows me inside and out. I've blogged before about our love/hate relationship. I love her dearly. I hate the effects medications have had on my body. I've taken just about every.single.thing out there. After my gastric bypass, my ability to tolerate medications became much less. As in MUCH MUCH MUCH less. And so the battle continues and as I've said over the last several years....got much worse.
THE GOOD:
Medications are prescribed by doctors to assist symptoms, to target abnormal medical findings, assist and prevent illnesses. These symptoms range in anything from pain, insomnia, hallucinations, coughing, chest pain, cramping, and many more ailments. The goal of medications is ultimately to relieve symptoms. At the end of the day, the goal of medications is to get rid of ailments/symptoms and prevent something worse from happening. In many cases the goal is both....prevent and get rid of. At any rate, the goal is to normalize ones quality of life/living.
Medications work. Sometimes. In some people. They have the ability to make bad things go away and allow people to live happier, healthier, and more productive lives.
THE BAD:
The bad thing with medications is they have side effects. Take trazodone for an example. It is used as antidepressant, but it makes people sleepy. SO it is used in a sub-therapeutic (for depression) to help with insomnia. This particular example can be a good side effect. Most side effects, though, are bad. They are uncomfortable the person. They are often the reason patients stop taking their medications. Side effects are usually uncomfortable. Rarely are they fatal. Usually they are reversible. Most often these effects go away once the medication is stopped.
The interesting thing about side effects is that few of them happen to everyone that takes them. Take the side effects of SSRI's for example, a ton of people will experience sexual side effects, not everyone will. Tremors, sexual side effects, weight gain, and sleepiness are often common side effects of SSRI's and other medications used for psychiatric disorders.
I've struggled with nearly every single psychiatric medication that I've been prescribed since my gastric bypass in 2004. As a patient who struggles with severe depression, a condition that is impeding my life, it is often worth taking the risk of any given side effect. Usually, I find myself somewhat hopeful the effects may not happen.
THE UGLY: (and it can be ugly)
Side effects are unpleasant, at best. Many have rare and really ugly effects. The rare and ugly effects are actually not side effects..they are considered ADVERSE REACTIONS. They can be awful, fatal, and in rare cases irreversible. Tardive Dyskinesia is an adverse reaction, one that takes time to develop. One that was a listed as a VERY rare side effect of a medication I took about a year ago. The usual response to the UGLY is to stop the medication ASAP.
Increased depression, self injury, suicidal ideation in my opinion falls under the ugly category. This medication is prescribed to relieve these very symptoms and then it increases it. Occasionally, these reactions/effects can lesson after a few days. In some cases, they continue to get worse and worse. Until there is no choice to stop the medication immediately.
THE MEDS SUCK:
I'm currently in the VERY UGLY portion of taking a new(er) medication. The last paragraph describes what life has been in the last few weeks. Each and every day increasingly getting worse. The last few days have been hell. I've been here before. I've experienced this before. I spoke with Jodi last night about the effects. My pdoc is not in the office at the time. Seeing someone else is not really an option. And I've been this route enough times to know that I need to stop the medication immediately before I end up in the hospital. Jodi and I discussed taking it every other day. The suicidal ideation wasn't as horrific, was manageable, and not constant prior to reaching the full dose. I'm unable to cut the medication in half, therefore, taking it every other day was the option that seemed like the best action to take. Giving that a try was something that I was willing to give a try. After today, I don't believe I will be taking it again. At least not until I can see my doctor in a few weeks.
Thursday, March 29, 2012
The PDoc is In
After waiting several months to get into a new psychiatrist for a 2nd opinion (or possible have him follow my care....even though, deep down I didn't really want that) I was rather discouraged. Depressed would be an understatement. HUGE understatement to be honest. Sometimes, that smack in the face is what you need. In this case what I needed. The get up and go to keep on fighting, keep on keeping on...was gone. I made a follow up appt with my primary psychiatrist K* yesterday. I've mentioned several times on this blog that we have a love/hate relationship. I agree w/my PCP that sometimes you need a fresh look. By going to see this new guy last week, this is exactly what I got.
Yesterday my appt with K* was chuck full of information. Much of the suggestions from the dr. I saw last week are not options. Will never be options. I will not have surgery and I will not do the other rather extreme things he suggested. I'm not opposed to it. However, at this time...in my heart I believe there is SOMETHING that is missing and SOMETHING else that could be helpful. I also left that appt feeling like she feels the same thing.
I left overwhelmed. Heck, I became overwhelmed while talking to her. I made sure to let her know that I was overwhelmed with several of the things she was throwing out there.
For the first time in the 12 year history I have with K* she saw in writing in front of her; the list of medical dx that I have/had at some point. Sitting in front of her on the first page of the report. She skimmed the report. Telling me different things, explaining what they were. And giving me her ever so humble opinion. Sometimes, I don't like her ever so humble and honest opinions. She was adamant about me seeing an endocrinologist.
At the end of the appt. I left with 2 new prescriptions. One I would start right away. The other I would attempt to get my insurance to pay with the assumptions they would not and then we could start the prior auth process. Much to our surprise it was partially covered. I could attempt to get my insurance to lower the tier for lower coverage. However, I am pretty sure it would be for naught.
So right now, I will start a Effixor (sp). In hopes that there are no negative side effects such as increased suicidal ideation. Trust me...when I say that I'm very very hesitant to take this based on my recent experiences with any antidepressants over the last year. As in extremely HESITANT!! And I became even more hesitant when I found out that the cost was rather high. My insurance doesn't pay for it at the 2 smaller co pays. Unfortunately for me. Whatever. If it will help I can/will take it. My history w/antidepressants isn't good....crossing more than my fingers!!
In a month or so I will start a prescription for Deplin. Basically it is a medical food/dietary supplement that contains methylfolate (aka: folate). This was something that came to K*'s mind after she saw the different medical dx that were listed on the 2nd opinion report.
I contacted my PCP's office. Have a referral to see someone in endocrinology in May. And we shall see....what will happen from there.
K* and I discussed EMDR, also. She was not very supportive of it. She gave me her reasoning for it. I'm not very sure I agree with her. I will write more about that at a later time. My son just came home from school and is being very loud.....I need to quiet him down real quick or it will be a long 6 hours before bedtime.
Saturday, March 10, 2012
Low of Lows for B12
Don't believe my B12 has ever reached the low that I'm at right now. With it brings frustration, anger, and so many range of emotions.
Weekly injections seems to be the correct answer. However, my insurance company believes that is not the answer. I was able to double up but that can only happen every so many weeks.
Another side of gastric bypass that is not 'talked about in depth prior to surgery. Today is my Friday. Thank heaven!!
Weekly injections seems to be the correct answer. However, my insurance company believes that is not the answer. I was able to double up but that can only happen every so many weeks.
Another side of gastric bypass that is not 'talked about in depth prior to surgery. Today is my Friday. Thank heaven!!
Monday, February 6, 2012
~What WLS Didn't Do~
This has been a very tough post for me to write. The thoughts, feelings, swirling has been more than I care to admit. This post is for me more than it is for anyone else. If you happen to get something out of it; great. If not, as I said...it is more for me more than anyone else. I hope and pray that one day I can look back and have the same thoughts/feelings that the young lady I will link to in this post has about herself.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
A fellow blogger and trauma momma wrote a blog post today that didn't settle so well with me. Let me be sure to point out....I love her post. I think it is awesome on all LEVELS. It just didn't sit well w/in my own personal self....thus the reason for this post. Over the last several hours, I've started to email Christine and then deleted it. I've started this blog post and then deleted it. Rinse and repeat about 20 times.
Yet everytime I go back and read her post, I get something different from it. Something that hits a very raw wound with in myself. I try very hard to not think of myself as broken. The broken mantra has been brought up in therapy several times. Often J* tell me she thinks that I have this mindset. Often I think to myself she must be crazy because I've never made this comment to her; nor do I think about it. I understand where she is coming from in her theme with this. Yet, when I read this blog post I can't help but think and feel broken.
When I had gastric bypass 7.5 years ago, they gave me all the tools that I needed to loose weight. I had nutritional appts, psych appts, surgical appts, group support, and all that jazz. I attended every single support group meeting AND was a SPEAKER at several of them over the course of a 2-3 year span of time pre and post op. Sure, I was given the tools to keep the weight off, kind of. What was never addressed was how I went from being 135 lbs to 330 lbs. And when I went back down to 145 lbs....everyone freeked the hell out!! I was dx with anorexia. I was hospitalized for anorexia. It wasn't until that low point in my life....was anything EVER addressed in the realms of how I went from 135 lbs to 330 lbs to 140 lbs. The tools at that point were to medicate me. And that began an even larger battle...a 5-6 year battle. I'm no longer 140 lbs. I've gained a ton of weight back. The negative self-dislike (hate) for my body is off the charts.
I learned from this experience it was better to stuff those things that got me to 330 lbs. My current battle with my self esteem is as raw and broken as it ever has been. There, I said it...broken! You can say distorted or whatever you wish.
Telling myself: The truth is: you are sexy.
By: WelcomeToMyBrain.net ....is really stinking hard. It is all I can do to be present and accepting of my body during a massage let alone feel sexy or anything else. I dont' look at myself in the mirror other than to blow my hair dry. Having sex repulses me on so many different levels (some abuse related and some pure self hate for my own body). I can't tell you the last time I looked at my butt. Dear Lord, taking a picture of my butt...just thinking about it makes me physically ill.
I've rambled. I know that this post is all over the place. The moral of the story (remember this is for me) is: Trauma sucks, abuse sucks, I know first hand how loosing weight will not change the the disorted (broken), stinking thinking. OI! Do I ever.
I also know...it is high time that the issues need to be addressed. I've attempted to change my thoughts around Christine's theme of Sexuary. My dh and I've had several conversations over the last few weeks on this very topic. And it all comes back to the core issues at hand.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
A fellow blogger and trauma momma wrote a blog post today that didn't settle so well with me. Let me be sure to point out....I love her post. I think it is awesome on all LEVELS. It just didn't sit well w/in my own personal self....thus the reason for this post. Over the last several hours, I've started to email Christine and then deleted it. I've started this blog post and then deleted it. Rinse and repeat about 20 times.
Yet everytime I go back and read her post, I get something different from it. Something that hits a very raw wound with in myself. I try very hard to not think of myself as broken. The broken mantra has been brought up in therapy several times. Often J* tell me she thinks that I have this mindset. Often I think to myself she must be crazy because I've never made this comment to her; nor do I think about it. I understand where she is coming from in her theme with this. Yet, when I read this blog post I can't help but think and feel broken.
When I had gastric bypass 7.5 years ago, they gave me all the tools that I needed to loose weight. I had nutritional appts, psych appts, surgical appts, group support, and all that jazz. I attended every single support group meeting AND was a SPEAKER at several of them over the course of a 2-3 year span of time pre and post op. Sure, I was given the tools to keep the weight off, kind of. What was never addressed was how I went from being 135 lbs to 330 lbs. And when I went back down to 145 lbs....everyone freeked the hell out!! I was dx with anorexia. I was hospitalized for anorexia. It wasn't until that low point in my life....was anything EVER addressed in the realms of how I went from 135 lbs to 330 lbs to 140 lbs. The tools at that point were to medicate me. And that began an even larger battle...a 5-6 year battle. I'm no longer 140 lbs. I've gained a ton of weight back. The negative self-dislike (hate) for my body is off the charts.
I learned from this experience it was better to stuff those things that got me to 330 lbs. My current battle with my self esteem is as raw and broken as it ever has been. There, I said it...broken! You can say distorted or whatever you wish.
Telling myself: The truth is: you are sexy.
By: WelcomeToMyBrain.net ....is really stinking hard. It is all I can do to be present and accepting of my body during a massage let alone feel sexy or anything else. I dont' look at myself in the mirror other than to blow my hair dry. Having sex repulses me on so many different levels (some abuse related and some pure self hate for my own body). I can't tell you the last time I looked at my butt. Dear Lord, taking a picture of my butt...just thinking about it makes me physically ill.
I've rambled. I know that this post is all over the place. The moral of the story (remember this is for me) is: Trauma sucks, abuse sucks, I know first hand how loosing weight will not change the the disorted (broken), stinking thinking. OI! Do I ever.
I also know...it is high time that the issues need to be addressed. I've attempted to change my thoughts around Christine's theme of Sexuary. My dh and I've had several conversations over the last few weeks on this very topic. And it all comes back to the core issues at hand.
Saturday, January 21, 2012
Therapy, Psychiatrist, Medication Management ..
After a great deal of thought I have decided to make an appt with a different psychiatrist. Specifically one that is experienced with gastric bypass patients.
At my last appt the beginning of December my pdoc made it clear she had no other options for medication nor was she willing to try anything. I understand where she is coming from. However, I do not agree. I respect Dr. SB and have for the entire 12 yrs that she has been my psychiatrist. I do not foresee switching 100%. My hopes are that Dr S will correlate care w/Dr. SB. It would be awesome if my current pdoc could do this without me having to wait 3+ months for an appt. I attempted to discuss this with her in December when I last saw her. She wasnt hearing me and therefore it wasnt an option. And I'm certain that my current emotional stability st that time wasnt the best either and so getting my thoughts across didn't work to my benefit.
I'm my opinion she believes that seeing my current therapist J* and continuation of DBT is what will be helpful. I hv no doubts she is correct.
The deal is this....I am at the end of the 6 month course for DBT....the last module to be exact. I have no plans on continuous group therapy. It's just not happening! !
I generally see my therapist biweekly. Sometimes more or less. Which depending upon where I am at ...depends on how much I gain or don't. I have been in therapy for a hell of a long time. And more recently just touched upon the tip of the iceberg. With appts being biweekly I often feel as though it is just what I mentioned...touching upon the tip of the iceberg. And then another 2 weeks pass and we are back at the rinse and repeat montra. We discuss from time to time what I do/don't need. And the wall is up.....I don't know what I need. If I don't know than how the hell am I to expect her to know? Part of the not knowing comes from past negative therapy experiences. And even though deep inside me I trust and respect J*....the wall is there. As we have touched very lightly on the tip of this iceberg......another wall goes up. The negative experiences come flooding back. I loose insight on the trust that had been built over the last 3-4 years. And we rinse and repeat again and again.
I know what I NEED...I just don't trust myself. And certainly don't trust anyone else.
There has been a shift in noticing different thoughts, feelings, physical pain, and so forth over the last 2 weeks. I'm not ready to share them here at this point.
Severe anxiety and suicidal thoughts have ran rampant over the last several days and continue to do so. How I will ever wait till April is beyond me. And that isn't even saying this new Dr will treat me w/o coordination of care with my current pdoc. Which just leads to more time. I failed to mention that I have had a rather not-so-good experience with this Dr before my WLS. And he is a man. I need someone to go with me....just not my husband! ! Unfortunately, having somone go isn't an option and I can only pray that I'm in somewhat of a good space before and do not end up on the end canceling my appt. I have a history of freaking out and canceling appts.
At my last appt the beginning of December my pdoc made it clear she had no other options for medication nor was she willing to try anything. I understand where she is coming from. However, I do not agree. I respect Dr. SB and have for the entire 12 yrs that she has been my psychiatrist. I do not foresee switching 100%. My hopes are that Dr S will correlate care w/Dr. SB. It would be awesome if my current pdoc could do this without me having to wait 3+ months for an appt. I attempted to discuss this with her in December when I last saw her. She wasnt hearing me and therefore it wasnt an option. And I'm certain that my current emotional stability st that time wasnt the best either and so getting my thoughts across didn't work to my benefit.
I'm my opinion she believes that seeing my current therapist J* and continuation of DBT is what will be helpful. I hv no doubts she is correct.
The deal is this....I am at the end of the 6 month course for DBT....the last module to be exact. I have no plans on continuous group therapy. It's just not happening! !
I generally see my therapist biweekly. Sometimes more or less. Which depending upon where I am at ...depends on how much I gain or don't. I have been in therapy for a hell of a long time. And more recently just touched upon the tip of the iceberg. With appts being biweekly I often feel as though it is just what I mentioned...touching upon the tip of the iceberg. And then another 2 weeks pass and we are back at the rinse and repeat montra. We discuss from time to time what I do/don't need. And the wall is up.....I don't know what I need. If I don't know than how the hell am I to expect her to know? Part of the not knowing comes from past negative therapy experiences. And even though deep inside me I trust and respect J*....the wall is there. As we have touched very lightly on the tip of this iceberg......another wall goes up. The negative experiences come flooding back. I loose insight on the trust that had been built over the last 3-4 years. And we rinse and repeat again and again.
I know what I NEED...I just don't trust myself. And certainly don't trust anyone else.
There has been a shift in noticing different thoughts, feelings, physical pain, and so forth over the last 2 weeks. I'm not ready to share them here at this point.
Severe anxiety and suicidal thoughts have ran rampant over the last several days and continue to do so. How I will ever wait till April is beyond me. And that isn't even saying this new Dr will treat me w/o coordination of care with my current pdoc. Which just leads to more time. I failed to mention that I have had a rather not-so-good experience with this Dr before my WLS. And he is a man. I need someone to go with me....just not my husband! ! Unfortunately, having somone go isn't an option and I can only pray that I'm in somewhat of a good space before and do not end up on the end canceling my appt. I have a history of freaking out and canceling appts.
Thursday, December 8, 2011
~Raging on the Inside~ ****tons of swearing******
My follow up appt today went as I expected. Fucktastic!
I'm pissed. PISSED. Fucking PISSED.
I sat for over an hour in my car after my appt today with my psychiatrist.
RAGING F*CKING MAD!!!
If I didn't have to work, hadn't already missed 10 hrs last week unpaid, and got myself in trouble bc I had a fucking tizzy ass fit and didn't make it to work OR call in....I WOULD STILL BE SITTING THERE!!
Because SITTING THERE....I can scream and cry and be fucking mad.
I can't scream, cry and rage when I walk in my doors of my house or work.
Yes, being the bread-winner of my family has added stress. Just ask my psychiatrist...she knows that. She states it. She gives me her thoughts and quite fucking honestly she can shove them up her ass. And because of that fucking stress....of loosing my job AND loosing my health insurance....I had to go to work today. I dont' know how many days I can keep this up. I really don't. Then what?
Obviously, therapy isn't going to help or fix this shit. It is up to me. Obviously, I'm not doing my part. I guess fucking not. I guess the fact that I threw the bottle of meds at the cupboard and up so I couldn't reach them wasn't doing my part or using the tools that I have been given. I guess, going to work....when all I can think about is just walking out infront of a car...is not using the tools. And so i'm not doing my part. According to my dr. today....I should be able to kick this w/o medication bc I dont' hear voices and other stupid shit she said.
Today's appt reminded me of what I have been subject to in other medical related issues w/my PCP's office from time to time. Specifically, the gastric bypass team members. Dismissed. Diminished.
This is so fucking unfair!
Friday, November 18, 2011
Light Bulb
Last night was rough. One of the worst this week. All things considered the week has gone fairly well. Sure, I was more than pissed at my psychiatrist yesterday for several different reasons. Sure, the day was a tad stressful. However, by evening fall that had all subsided and I had a pleasant evening with my family.
The night looked something like this....Sleep was no where around. After waking several times, as in every 30-45 minutes...it involved me attempting to wake my husband sometime around 2-2:30 am. He made it clear to me last week he wanted me to wake him on nights that I wake and am struggling. Specifically with "one way out, there is no fix, things would be much better for my family if I was no longer around...." thinking. He would not wake up. I went from my bed to a hot shower. The hot shower didnt' snap me out of this spin. I sat at the kitchen table in the dark for around 30 minutes drinking a Dt Pepsi and overdosing on chocolate.
I woke in a definate mood. One that said THANK GOD I am not working today. Thank God....I have today for me! I couldn't bring myself to snap out of it. While showering, my face stung from falling tears. And the gament of thoughts..... Why? WHY? I'm supposed to be better? I'm supposed to be able to work? I'm supposed to be functional? Is being off work really decreasing my ability to function? I dont' agree. I've done fairly well this week all things considered. Struggling with suicidal thoughts has really been at bad since the end of last week. Few fleeting moments here and there. Nothing more than a few thoughts here and there of hopelessness.
Struggling with all og the above, I got out of the shower. Determined to get things done today. I needed to shampoo my carpets, pick up a few groceries and make a cake today. All things that I could have done last night (except the cake) but I was tired and b*tchy so I waited till today.
My psychiatrist agreed to give w.elbutrin another try. I opened the cupboard and a RX bottle fell out.
The light bulb CLICKED on really BRIGHT!!
My conversation with my husband was one that was rather tough. He was mad. Very mad. At me. He didn't have to say much to make me know that he was upset with me. I know why.
Shortly after having a lil' discussion with my husband and the light bulb clicking; my husband gave me a shot of Vitamin B12. It has been a really long time since I've had one. As in really long time. We filled the this afternoon after he gave me the injection. I will have him give me another injection in a week to give me a boost.
And....here is a lil diddy from depression.com about B12. Because of my gastric bypass this is just another thing that due to malapsorption is an issue.
Vitamin B12: Because vitamin B12 is important to red blood cell formation, deficiency leads to an oxygen-transport problem known as pernicious anemia. This disorder can cause mood swings, paranoia, irritability, confusion, dementia, hallucinations, or mania, eventually followed by appetite loss, dizziness, weakness, shortage of breath, heart palpitations, diarrhea, and tingling sensations in the extremities. When shortages do occur, they are often due to a lack of intrinsic factor, an enzyme that allows vitamin B12 to be absorbed in the intestinal tract. Since intrinsic factor diminishes with age, older people are more prone to B12 deficiencies.
The night looked something like this....Sleep was no where around. After waking several times, as in every 30-45 minutes...it involved me attempting to wake my husband sometime around 2-2:30 am. He made it clear to me last week he wanted me to wake him on nights that I wake and am struggling. Specifically with "one way out, there is no fix, things would be much better for my family if I was no longer around...." thinking. He would not wake up. I went from my bed to a hot shower. The hot shower didnt' snap me out of this spin. I sat at the kitchen table in the dark for around 30 minutes drinking a Dt Pepsi and overdosing on chocolate.
I woke in a definate mood. One that said THANK GOD I am not working today. Thank God....I have today for me! I couldn't bring myself to snap out of it. While showering, my face stung from falling tears. And the gament of thoughts..... Why? WHY? I'm supposed to be better? I'm supposed to be able to work? I'm supposed to be functional? Is being off work really decreasing my ability to function? I dont' agree. I've done fairly well this week all things considered. Struggling with suicidal thoughts has really been at bad since the end of last week. Few fleeting moments here and there. Nothing more than a few thoughts here and there of hopelessness.
Struggling with all og the above, I got out of the shower. Determined to get things done today. I needed to shampoo my carpets, pick up a few groceries and make a cake today. All things that I could have done last night (except the cake) but I was tired and b*tchy so I waited till today.
My psychiatrist agreed to give w.elbutrin another try. I opened the cupboard and a RX bottle fell out.
The light bulb CLICKED on really BRIGHT!!
My conversation with my husband was one that was rather tough. He was mad. Very mad. At me. He didn't have to say much to make me know that he was upset with me. I know why.
Shortly after having a lil' discussion with my husband and the light bulb clicking; my husband gave me a shot of Vitamin B12. It has been a really long time since I've had one. As in really long time. We filled the this afternoon after he gave me the injection. I will have him give me another injection in a week to give me a boost.
And....here is a lil diddy from depression.com about B12. Because of my gastric bypass this is just another thing that due to malapsorption is an issue.
Vitamin B12: Because vitamin B12 is important to red blood cell formation, deficiency leads to an oxygen-transport problem known as pernicious anemia. This disorder can cause mood swings, paranoia, irritability, confusion, dementia, hallucinations, or mania, eventually followed by appetite loss, dizziness, weakness, shortage of breath, heart palpitations, diarrhea, and tingling sensations in the extremities. When shortages do occur, they are often due to a lack of intrinsic factor, an enzyme that allows vitamin B12 to be absorbed in the intestinal tract. Since intrinsic factor diminishes with age, older people are more prone to B12 deficiencies.
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