the quickest way to crazy

Want to know the fastest way to cause someone like me an anxiety attack?


How about I call my psychiatrist's office to change the time of my next appointment and they tell me that my doctor, who I've been seeing for 4 months, is no longer a part of their group. And no, they don't know where he went but his PA will be taking over his patients.


Are you kidding me? When was I going to be told? He's really gone? Does that mean my already scheduled appointment will be transferred to the PA's appointment books?


No, she only works on Mondays, Tuesdays and Thursdays and your appointment is on a Friday. 


So you can't move my appointment?


Well, no because you're appointment is on a Friday. And she only works Mondays, Tuesdays and Thursdays.


So does that mean you can't move my appointment to one of those days?


Is that what you want to do? 


Really?!?! You have to ask me that? After I just asked if my appointment could be moved over? You know you're dealing with people who have mental problems, right? That's kind of your whole clientele. Don't start giving me the run-around right after you've told them you no longer have the doctor I've come to rely on.


But, Yes! Of course I want my appointment moved!


So I make a new appointment and am hanging up the phone when it hits me - I think I just scheduled to see the awful PA who let me wait a day and a half before seeing me in the hospital. But then I remember, wait, I have my doctor's email address. He gave it to me at our first meeting. I whip that bad boy out and click-clack out a distressed email asking what-the-fruit basket is going on. My answer?


An automated vacation reply.


Sob.


So I wait and try not to freak out. It'll be fine, right? I'm practically on a medication upkeep basis anyway. It won't really matter who I see, right? Right? Except this is the lady who kept me waiting a day and a half before she found the time to see me. A day and a half. While I was locked in a mental institution.


And then, miraculously, I get an actual email reply from my doctor. I eagerly open it and find that it only contains a website. Hoping it contains answers to all my worries and concerns, I click. It only has one page - a page under construction telling me that my doctor is moving his main practice to a new facility in Provo. That's wonderful! So much closer than my previous drive to Salt Lake.


But that's it. Just that he's moving. All the page links say "coming soon." So I email him back to ask if my existing appointment with him will carry over. His reply - keep checking the website.


Does no one remember that I'm a MENTAL PATIENT? You can't just leave us people hanging. The OCD will kick in and I'll be checking that web page every 5 minutes to see if it updated yet.


Great doctor/patient skills there, Doc. I'd complain more but his succinct personality is kind of why I liked him in the first place. So I'll keep checking, and keep emailing, and with that, the anxiety will slowly climb down from eleven.

popsicles and super grover

We only teach the important words in this household. 

summer fun

This summer has just been chocked full of fun-ness. Besides San Diego, we have a trip planned to Yellowstone with some very good friends and Penny had her first ever swim lessons.

Swim lessons have been something that I was very excited to do for Penny. As a parent, I don't want her to be afraid of the water but, being so young, she also needs a healthy respect for it. And respect is almost impossible to guarantee when dealing with a 21 month old. But I thought it was time to at least start.

Spanish Fork City luckily offered a Mommy & Me class for kids under 4 years old. We took the class for 2 weeks and, honestly, didn't really learn much. I thought the kids would be a little closer to Penny's age instead of the age limit. Because most of the kids were at least a year older, the teachers played to their strengths, such as being able to listen and actually take instructions. There were only 2 or 3 kids under two so mostly we just focused on getting our babies to lay on their backs or stomachs and kick their legs. Penny was very enthusiastic when it came to kicking and less so when it came to using her arms like shovels to scoop the water. So even though the class wasn't totally geared towards us, we made the best of it, playing in the water as much as we could and enjoying the sun. I think by next summer, she'll be as much of a water baby as I was. 

Our next big summer adventure takes us to Yellowstone National Park. We'll be there for a long weekend, giving us enough time to enjoy the sights but not get tired of looking at trees and rocks. We're going with a couple of very good friends who have a son a few months younger than Penny so we'll all have someone to play with. I can't wait to try out some new photo techniques I've learned on the gorgeous scenery up there. I hope to come home with some great pictures. And maybe a moose. If I can fit him in the trunk. 

san diego 2011

This post will be a nice break from all the mopey, depressing posts. I promise to ease up on those for awhile. Especially since I'm feeling so much better about life and such. So here is a post dedicated to the vacation we took back in June. A little late, I know, but I've been emo-blogging, being a mom and what not. Give me a break.


But don't worry. This is going to be the best kind of post - the kind with pictures. Everyone loves a blog with pictures because it doesn't require reading. I'll even help you along. All you need to know about our vacation is this:


San Diego, beach, sand, eating, naps, love, Penny, family, Nora, SD Zoo, Sea World, more eating, ELMO, more love. 

   

in the meantime

I realize it's been quite a while since I've written and I only have pharmacology to blame. In the two months since I've been out of the hospital I've been to two different doctors about eight times. One is the psychiatrist who tinkers with my medication doses so I don't feel like either a zombie or a homicidal maniac. The other is my psychologist who meets with Jason and I to talk about how my feeling like a zombie and a homicidal maniac is affecting us. 


It hasn't been easy. I thought that as soon as I got out of the hospital, back home and on the right medicines, everything would be spiffy. I'd be able to handle everything life could throw at me and then some. Instead I'm figuring out how to deal with the learning curve that goes with taking these medications. I'm learning how to live with not feeling depressed all the time. I know that sounds ridiculous but sometimes I honestly can't remember the last time I didn't feel depressed. Before marriage? College? High School? Maybe longer? When you've just been scraping by for as long as I have, allowing yourself to feel better is somewhat of a challenge. The other side of that coin is allowing yourself to feel upset at all; not just sadness but anger or hurt. Sometimes I get mad at myself for being angry about something. Shouldn't I be fine now? Shouldn't these things not bother me as much? 


I don't know. What I do know is that I'm still working on it. Every day is still a struggle to make things feel right. But it's a struggle I've been able to handle. I've started sleeping enough and eating better. I've even started exercising again. I still drink way too much caffeine and complain about getting up early to go for my walk. But I know that each day I do it, the next won't be so difficult. And that's what I have to remember - tomorrow won't be so difficult. 


A few months ago there was an episode of Glee that really hit home for me. One of the characters finally realized she had a problem with her OCD and went to a doctor. This is what the doctor told her: 


"There's a stigma in this country about mental illness; depression, anxiety, OCD, bipolar. They're hard to diagnose so people don't always appreciate that they're serious problems, but they are. Your illness is not who you're supposed to be. It's keeping you from who you're supposed to be. You're not alone. You're going to feel better. I promise."


And I believe her.