Dr. Not Impressed

I called my psychiatrist yesterday to ask him if he would be willing to speak with the neurologist.

See, I figured neurology’s input might make a difference in the approach to my treatment.  Among other things, the covering neurologist had said that the SSRI was not a great idea if this was akathisia, and I wanted the neurologist and the psychiatrist to be able to talk it over rather than to have me in the middle trying to explain the arguments for or against an SSRI here.

Oh but no, that was not in the cards.  The psychiatrist felt there was no need for him to talk to the neurologist, said if he spoke to him it would only be to say that he “respectfully disagreed” that an SSRI can cause or exaccerbate akathisia “if that is the word he used”….

Now see, it’s little things like that.  Little things that say “I don’t believe you” or “I am invalidating what you are telling me”.  Little things like “if that’s the word he used” or the sighing (yes, there were exasperated sounding sighs from my psychiatrist), or the tone of voice that sounds, quite frankly, peeved, fed up, sick of listening to something stupid.  You know the tone.  I’ve heard it from him before, and I figured that maybe I was projecting.  But on top of the sighing, and the phrasing he used in speaking about whether it made sense to talk to the neurologist and about akathisia in general, about whether it made sense for me to stay on the SSRI, it sort of adds up to one ugly percept.

I was pretty upset after talking to him.  I get like that with doctors, when they get like that with me.  So needless to say, yesterday was not a stellar day.

It didn’t help that yesterday, I felt like I was on the verge of fainting or just plain old falling over *all*damned*day*.  It was like I was way too heavily sedated.  I had taken an Ativan yesterday, at about 6 AM, 1 mg, no more than I’d taken in past days.  Because I felt so fogged, I even waited it out and didn’t take any more (another .5 mg) until 5 PM.  Didn’t matter, I spent the day in a sick-flu-like fog.  It sucked.  It made me a little panicky too, on top of the distress after my call with Dr. Not Impressed, which sucked because I didn’t want to take another Ativan to deal with the panic.  So I just sucked it up and dealt with the shaking and retching.

So this AM I tried not taking an Ativan, on account of the fogginess yesterday.  I got to 8:00 with leg shaking and pacing, then finally the retching started.  I need to be able to eat and keep my food down, so I just took an Ativan.  It feels like a failure to do so.  I feel so lost right now.  I wonder if I will ever feel normal again.  For a short period this morning, I did.  Between waking up at 4:30 and laying in bed with my mind racing on stressors, my legs shaking (trying not to, I can consciously stop them from shaking, stop myself from rocking, but as soon as I lose focus, I start again), and getting up at 6:30, I was in a state.  I was ok for a time after getting up.  Taking care of the cats, feeling sad about the cats (that’s just ever present now, that seeping, aching sorrow), looking for jobs online, reading facebook.  I sat in the living room for a moment and pictured it as a safe welcoming space, a place where I am safe.  And that worked for a while.  Then I got up to do dishes, to start making food, and the retching started.

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