My world

Everybody is talking about big issues on their blogs.  Trayvon Martin (actually they are talking about the other guy but I refuse to call him by name).  The train explosion in Canada.  The plane crash in San Francisco.  The Equality House (again they are talking about a stupid church but I refuse to mention their name).  There is lots to talk about in today's world.

But it is my world right now.  On Friday I realized I was not actually joking when I said I would not make it 6 weeks with Ladybug in this state of mind.  Everyday was a struggle.  Every hour was a struggle.  Every minute was a struggle.  For me.  For her.  For everyone around us.  So I called her psychiatrist and told him I needed her back on the meds.  She needed to be back on the meds.  He agreed and she took her first dose on Friday night.  She takes a dose in the morning and a dose in the night.  She started to smooth out by Saturday night.  On Monday I had hope that she would have a good day at camp.  And she day.  Her primary teacher said she was a completely different children.  She is thoughtful.  She is kind.  She is loving.  She listens.  She tries.  She cuddles.

On Monday I went to my doctor for a follow-up appointment.  My labs (hypothyroid) were great.  Right on target.  I need my med.  But I don't like my med.  My feet are swelling.  A lot.  I have asked every doctor I have had for the last 15 years to switch to a natural thyroid hormone.  Every doctor has said no.  They don't trust it.  And I don't know a lot about it so I am not capable of making a good argument.  I have had at least 4 doctors say that they would not put me on.  My doctor choices are limited in a town of 5000 people.  So I went in on Monday and asked... completely unprepared to argue. 

And she said, "Sure." 

Just that.  Nothing more.  No argument.  Well that worked.  I got brave and decided to ask for more help.  I am doing so much better since being on the thyroid meds.  But doing better doesn't mean I am doing good.  So I asked if she would consider prescribing prozac for me. 

And she said, "Sure."

This does not feel like a doctor who is doing whatever I ask.  This feels like a doctor who realizes that I should have a voice in my own care.  I am not stupid.  I am not a hypochondriac.  I am trying to understand myself and my health.  I am trying to make decisions.  And with her guidance -- I can have a voice.

Oh and the good news... according to her scale I have lost 9 pounds since my last visit.  According to my scale it is 13 pounds.  Not great.  But good. And heading in the right direction.

Okay this heat is making my feet swell.  I need to put them up... this requires that my computer must be put down.

Mean Mama