Three Time Loser

Not Too Late, Part Deux

The trip to TuSon's last night was my first.  He moved there in August to start his junior year.  Being already furnished, there wasn't much too move, but he could have used some help.

I have felt very guilty about not helping and not visiting until now.  The drive there was what stopped me.   About half of the trip was familiar and manageable for me but I had reservations about the second half.  There were bridges and circles and ramps.  It was rush hour when I left last night.  In some ways, I prefer traffic since it slows the commute.  But, even with the GPS, I had concerns about the lanes I needed to be in and sometimes Pittsburgh drivers are unforgiving. 

I did quite of bit of concentrated breathing and miraculously made it there and back.  I will do it again.  I feel confident that this city driving will not become another obstacle that I allow to interfere with my life.  I've plenty of those already.

Not Too Late

As it turns out, I am home in plenty of time to get a post in before midnight.  I am once again warm and in the comfort of my  humble abode.

I have been taking risks lately that I normally wouldn't consider.  Not the kind that you might imagine, but huge steps for me considering the things that I fear the most.

Early in this blog's life, I shared the panic and anxiety disorder that I suffer with.  My fears are centered around driving, mostly at high speed and on limited access highways.  Oh, and the tunnel and bridge thing.  I can usually find my way around highways, bridges and tunnels or I beg a ride from someone.  Lately, I have conquered a couple of these obstacles. 

A few weeks ago, I mentioned taking my mom to a doctor appointment near my home.  It was in a section of town that I have never driven before.  The trip there was a little nerve-wracking because of the traffic and the fear of the unknown, but it wasn't bad.  The return trip was a different story.

I have a portable GPS that takes me anywhere I need to go with the "avoid highways" setting.  It's awesome and I recommend EVERYONE I know get one.  For me and my poor sense of direction, it's a lifesaver.  It also helps me to get around the tunnels and highways that I so desperately try to avoid.  Well, on the ride home from the doctor appointment, I knew there was a closed road the way we got there, so I allowed the GPS to take me a different way home.  It wasn't long that I realized that I would be crossing  the Liberty Bridge.  I wasn't concerned about the bridge because I knew there was something worse coming.  The Liberty Tunnel. 

Immediately I began to concentrate on my breathing because I have recognized that hyperventilating is one of the more severe symptoms of my panic attacks.  I think  having my mom with me helped to get me through the attack and the tunnel because she is a very uncomfortable passenger and I didn't want her to more uneasy than she already was.

I made it through the tunnel without dying or killing us both although it was terribly uncomfortable for me.  BUT I MADE IT THROUGH THE TUNNEL.  Something I haven't even attempted for years. I don't care to try it again any time soon  and thats what sucks.  I wish I felt  like I had conquered the fear.

Maybe someday.

Million Bucks

I think I have admitted here before that I am a procrastinator.  Or maybe I haven't.  Maybe I just thought about admitting it.  Anyway.  I am one and I am not proud of that.

So since I've moved (8 months) I've needed to find and schedule appointments with the following:

• Primary care physician
• OB/GYN
• Dentist
• Psychiatrist

So in the last couple of days, I have scheduled for everything I need and a couple of things that I don't need.

• I chose a primary care physician by finding a facility near home and looking up the number.  I'm all about convenience.  There are 7 doctors so I'm bound to find one I like.  Visited Dr. #1 on Monday.  She referred me to a OB/GYN in the same building and a shrink nearby.  Also ordered blood work and a colonoscopy.  I have issues. Nuff said.
• Had blood work done on Tuesday.  Waiting for results.  I know my cholesterol is going to be high.  Meds are very costly.
• Have coloscopy scheduled for June 14.  This will be my third as I have a family history of colon cancer.  The procedure itself is a breeze.  The prep?  Not so much.
• I saw the dentist last week for a sensitive tooth and a broken filling. (Dentist recommend by a client.  Nice guy.)  He told me (regrettably) that I need a root canal and two crowns.  He even printed me an estimate and ranked the procedures by order of importance.  All to the tune of $2285.  That includes my regular 6-month cleaning that is scheduled for June 16.  Root canal scheduled for June 20.
• Appointment tomorrow for annual (overdue) pap smear.  I also have found a lump about the size of the bite-size version of a Peppermint Patty that needs tended to.  I have very lumpy breasts so I tend not to freak out but even this one is a bit worrisome.  Will need a mammogram and sonogram.  Soon.
• Appointment to see a psychiatrist on June 27.  First visit $200, follow-ups, $100.  My insurance doesn't believe mental health is important so this will be out of pocket for me.  As will any and all medications that I pray he prescribes.  And those damn things are generally very expensive. 

So I'm thinking by the July 4th holiday, I will be totally broke but either really healthy or really not. 

PS.  Anna Marie from the GYN office just called to see if I could change my 8:30 appointment to 12:15.  Thinking aloud, I said, "12:15 until 1:30, that should be enough time."  Anna Marie assures me that if it's a problem, I don't have to change it.  "What's at 1:30?" she asks.  "Hair appointment, " I respond.   "Oh, that's too important to miss," she says, "Just forget I called."  I'm thinking what?  And she reiterates, "I think it's too important and she (the doctor) would too.  Just nevermind." 

Holy cow.  I am wondering if my GYN could also act as my therapist.  We are so on the same page.

Time in a bottle

Ok, Mark, I'm caving to the pressure of blogging when I don't have the time to blog.  The truth is, I miss you all!  I miss my daily conversations with each of you through my comments on your site and yours on mine.  All of the new friends and acquaintances that I've come to rely on, you all mean so much to me and I look forward to our daily visits.  I've checked in with only a few blogs a day this week and I'm starting to have withdrawal!

I will be doing my best to catch up on laundry and housework on Sunday before the Superbowl and if I need a break from that, I will be trying to catch up on my reading of blogs, not my writing.  All y'alls blogs are way more interesting than mine! 

If anyone can catch 40 winks for me, I'd really appreciate it.  I'm a little behind in the sleep department.

I'll leave you with one of my favorite pictures of Liqueur to enjoy.

No time

Working on my day off. 
No time for blogging.
Reading is a luxury.
I am tired.

Welcome to the jungle, Part III-- what you don't know, can hurt you

I had deteriorated to the point where even riding in a car stressed me out.  On a trip, I would be so anxious the entire way that I was sore from tensing my muscles by the time we reached our destination, even if it was only an hour drive.  I was irritable.  I was sad.  I was short-tempered and bad-tempered.  I knew I had to do something.

When I visited Ms. Asswipe, the psychiatrist, she only asked a few questions then opened her desk drawer to get out her prescription pad.  "What kind of insurance do you have?" she asked, and I responded, "I have no prescription insurance."  She went ahead and wrote two prescriptions then stood to open a cupboard full of samples.  I love samples and she provided me with enough Paxil to last me 2 weeks. She wanted me to schedule another visit to check on my progress.  The other prescription was for Klonopin and she explained that the combination of the two drugs should virtually eliminate my panic attacks.  The Paxil would also help with the depression I was experiencing, she said.  I inquired about side effects and she said that any from the Paxil would be minimal and not bothersome enough to quit taking it.  (That was a stock answer for her.)  Of course, I went home and researched Paxil on the Internet since I knew she was a bit less than thorough in her advice.

Welcome to the jungle, Part II--- I'll take 250mg for $1000, Alex

I don't remember when the heart palpitations started.  I didn't know what the hell they were and was concerned enough to go to the ER.  The doctor pronounced me "anxious" and gave me enough  Xanax to last me a couple of days.  I was pretty much a zombie in the days to follow, without even realizing it.  My mother told me later that she was concerned about the way I was talking on the phone, almost slurring.  Looking back, I can't believe I managed to care for my children while constantly under Xanax's spell for three days. I do remember sleeping quite a bit.  Maybe I didn't care for my kids.  And I didn't care that I wasn't taking care of them since the drug was working.  Anyway.  I saw my family doctor and she diagnosed palpitations and prescribed meds that I still take today.  Ok then.  Palpitations taken care of.

So I was managing the panic disorder and agoraphobia quite nicely by avoiding everything that I needed to avoid.  One of those things was eating out.  The panic attacks manifested themselves as an inability to swallow and a choking sensation when I ate out.  Way to ruin a good meal.  I really loved to go out to eat and missed doing that.  Most of the other things I avoided didn't have a big impact on my life at that time, but dining out--damnit.  I used to really enjoy eating out. That was really pissing me off.  Eventually, I agreed to medication.  I was prescribed Klonopin and it worked for me.  I took as little as possible on a daily basis, sometimes 1/4 of a .5mg tablet then took another 1/2 maybe when I knew I would be in a panic-producing situation.  The only side effect for me was lack of energy.

After maybe 8-10 months, I felt I had a psychological addiction.  I had basically weaned myself off the daily dose and took 1/4 of .5 mg when I needed it.  My psychiatrist didn't care it I went off of it or not; when you're ready, she'd say.  That small dose wouldn't hurt me in the long term.  Eventually I did stop it completely.  I stayed panic-free in restaurants for several years.

Welcome to the jungle

I have had issues with panic disorder since early 1990's.  Not constantly, but off and on.  Sometimes medicated and sometimes not. I was once diagnosed with agoraphobia, which is defined as a fear of being in places where help might not be available, typically fear of crowds, bridges, or of being outside alone.  The fear of 'help not being available'  often refers to having a panic attack alone.  Agoraphobia can occur though without the incidence of a panic disorder.

One of the stereotypes associated agoraphobia is the sufferer being home bound, never able to leave.  This may  be true for some people, but not all agoraphobics are unable to leave their homes.  Some are able to leave unaccompanied and some will leave only with a person they can trust to support them. Agoraphobics tend to avoid situations that may produce their fear or panic.   Restricting  or eliminating behavior  can disrupt their lives, sometimes to the point of paralyzing the victim.

If you have ever experienced a panic attack, you probably know the fear of having one.   This fear can be crippling in and of itself.  I, like many, resisted drug therapy. I wanted to work through this on my own.  I'm a strong person.  I can do this.  Oh, then. Fast forward a couple of months. Well, maybe a little professional help.  I sought counseling.  I discovered my personality type.  Woo hoo, big help.  I learned relaxation methods.  I could put myself to sleep in 2.8 seconds.  Before that, it took 5 minutes.  (Sleeping was never a problem for me.)  My therapist told me over and over that my fears were irrational.  No shit.  I knew that. Way to make me feel really hopeless. That was worth $85.  Now I not only had a panic disorder, I had a complex.

The host of psychologists that I visited over the years all seemed to come to one conclusion: One or both of my parents were alcoholics.  I exhibited the classic signs of a child of an alcoholic.  Only trouble was, neither of my parents were alcoholics.  And what the fuck does that have to do with my fear of eating in public places?  And driving?  And all the other things that yielded my panic attacks?? Why don't you all get it?  This is not my parent's fault. Find another angle, damnit!  So much for the "professionals."   Eventually, I just stopped doing those things that I feared would produce my panic. Enter: agoraphobia.

Stayed tuned for "Welcome to the jungle, part II, I'll take 250mg for $1000, Alex," coming soon!