What I did for love part two

Since I wrote the first "What I did for Love" piece I have seen two more therapists, a gynecologist, and a GP. I also saw an Oncologist yesterday, which may be one of two things. The lithium I have been taking all these years have messed up my white blood count, or something more sinister. I don't know. I won't know til next week. 

The waiting is the hardest part. 

I just have to keep thinking positive thoughts.

More meds added to the cocktail. 

Vistaril

Klonepin

Congestin

Haldol

I don';t think they are working too well.

I have never had panic attacks like the ones I have been getting. But I take the script, ask the doctor the third degree on every drug.  Badger, questions, all will be OK.  Thank you for asking such detailed questions.  You seem to understand these drugs. 

Umm, it's a pocket PDR in my oversized purse. I have been studying. 

But I cannot help but wonder about the Gods destroying by going mad. I've been reading history lately from my bed, where I have pulled out my back on Wednesday.  Byzantium and Roman history. Fascinating stuff, albeit dry. 

Mad because why an Oncologist? Because my wbc is super high ,and platelets have doubled in 2 weeks? Maybe it's nothing. The man seemed nice enough, nice kind,   doctor.   He just seemed like the type of man you could take home to mom and she would kvell all over him. 

Dr. S. seemed to be worried about the platelets going up and the wbc.  He talked to my mother, the way people do when they ignore you.  He examined me, pounded on all my lymph nodes and I cried out in pain. Pounded on my back, and tummy.   Then they took 5 vials of blood (I am convinced doctors are vampires). And  then it was over. Wait for the results. 

But I want to get better. The suicidal ideation has passed, that to me is worth more than anything. I saw an over head pipe the other day at the gynecologist's office and told her it was the first time in a week I haven't looked at such a thing and thought about a rope. 

So I do things for wellness. I start a new therapist, and it looks good. Hurray.  

But I am scared. It's a lot to recall. My day planner has doctors every day. I am getting tired of it all. I want to work, to go out and meet people, not be crippled by the latest round of OCD which knocked me down and I cannot try to get up, but I am doing my best. 

I don't have a choice really. It's this or 6 feet under. I don't want to die yet. I want so much to live! 

So the gods are driving me mad before they destroy me. So what? Give me the best you got , boys. I can take it. Just don't hit me in the you know whats- I don't own a pair. Just let me get better. I did it before when I stopped drinking, I can do it again now. 

I want to do it again. So many things worth thinking about.  And doing.  I've never skied for example. I haven't really seen Europe, I've never been on the West Coast past Santa Barbara. 

So I am on 9 drugs now. Take a little here and there and get better. The Haldol doesn't work as good as the Geodon, but it has less side effects. Klonepin seems to be working as well as Ativan, but i have to cut the pill in half. 

And so it goes. 

One day I hope to laugh at this as I have the perfect med cocktail.

But right now I would just like a shot in my spine, to make me feel better. I threw out my back yesterday and it's painful. But  I wanted to blog. And it should be better in a day or two. It's from the moving the other day. 

The way I see it, is those Ancient Gods keep throwing dodgeballs at me. I am hit a few times but I get to throw then back as well.  They aren't going to destroy me yet.