The clouds are slowly parting. It's been several days since my last sobbing breakdown. I have appointments with doctors to see what is going on with my neck and spine. We're not sure if there's an issue there that needs to be addressed, or if this level of pain is my new normal. I get about 8 hours of awake time, and I can walk around and do things for about an hour total a day. The 8 hours are broken up into a five hour segment and a three hour segment, approximately. I sleep for the other 16 hours. And I'm "resting" for seven out of the eight hours. Sometimes I can "rest" sitting up, watching TV or reading a book. Those are good days. Other times, I need to be in bed, flat on my back, willing my neck muscles to relax, completely drugged on anti-nausea and other such meds. Because my husband works the night shift, I'm awake from around 10 PM until 1 AM (give or take a few hours either way). Then I sleep until he comes home and I'm awake from 8 or 9 AM until somewhere between noon and two. It isn't a totally strict schedule yet, and the dogs are having some issues adjusting to this new "sleeping while it is light out in the afternoon" schedule. Also, I keep having to erase whole sentences of this post because a very eager Jeph seems to want to blog by hitting the keyboard with his paws. I think he thinks I'm playing with a toy and he wants to play, too! One of these posts, I'll have to let him guest post.
Part of the clouds parting is that after a sobbing fit, I fell asleep for 19 hours and missed some doses of a medication that I'd been put on a couple of weeks prior to my meltdown. When I woke up, I felt like myself. It was like a fog of awful had been lifted. I thought perhaps it was exhaustion, but it turns out that particular medication was making me worse. I stopped taking it under close supervision by my husband. Finally, I'm starting to be able to calm my brain and heal. I've been able to begin to convince my brain that it is safe here again.
I am now finally able to look at my mental health care objectively and realize that I am not currently receiving the care that is best for me. I'm starting the process of making a change to a different care team. The person who has been diagnosing me and prescribing medications for me is not an actual Psychiatrist. She is a Licensed Nurse Practitioner who works alongside the Psychiatrists at the mental health clinic. Nothing against Licensed Nurse Practitioners, but I need a Psychiatrist. She even has continually admitted that she has no idea what she's doing with me and is stumped by me. And I've found out that the medication that I've stopped wasn't even for any of the symptoms I've been experiencing. Also, the Psychologist that I've been seeing also told me this past week that she has no idea what to do with me going forward and that my symptoms are severe enough that they are out of her realm of expertise. So here we go, trying to get a new care team.
I had a three hour long, several phone call evaluation from my insurance. They're trying to get me enrolled in their Case Management program so that I can have someone working with me side by side to get all the specialists and referrals and help that I need. It was quite a depressing evaluation, as I had to go through all my symptoms and all my different systems and explain how and where and why they are failing. But after the phone call, I suddenly felt strangely empowered. No wonder I'm breaking down! No wonder I sleep 16 hours a day! No wonder I need a wheelchair! No wonder I can't do what everyone else can! Look at everything I deal with on a daily basis! Look at all I manage to do in spite of this! Look at how I can still drink water, take the dogs out, change the laundry, keep up with personal hygiene, and more. Sometimes, I can even make myself sandwiches or heat up leftovers. And you know, I'm going to go back to being proud of that. I'm going to work on being proud of myself again.
And speaking of being proud, I just looked up from my screen and my dogs are so proud of themselves because they found a rip in an old dog bed and have scattered the stuffing all over the living room floor. They are so happy destroying their bed. I hope they'll continue to be happy with they realize that they are responsible for that bed getting thrown in the trash.
Until next time, friends. Stay safe,
