Take one-half tablet by mouth every day for mental health. That’s what it says on the plastic pill bottle with the childproof cap. So those of you, who have been waiting all of these years, finally have your smoking gun. Maybe this is one of those things you’re not supposed to put on Facebook so it doesn’t come back to haunt you.
It’s call sertraline; an anti-depressant and I got a prescription for 25 MG a day. It’s a mild dose so I guess I’m only mildly off my rocker. At least it’s not an anti-psychotic. Did I just add to my own stigmatism in an attempt to downplay it at the expense of others?
I have what is called labile mood. My emotions are very close to the surface. This is common in stroke victims. I also have a history of depression. I was depressed at least all through high school, maybe into my late forties. I remember a Thanksgiving dinner at my friends, the Sutherland’s, and afterward feeling very strange. It drove me crazy for two weeks until I figured out what it was. What was wrong was there was nothing wrong. I had had a good time, a foreign concept for me during a holyday.
Anyway, I’ve been crying at the drop of a hat, flying off the handle with my wife. A few days ago I got what I can only describe as hysterical. I’m not saying there were not significant things going on to trigger it or I was unemotional before the stroke. I am saying the stroke has defiantly compounded the matter in such a way I’m willing to give pharmaceuticals a try.
The doc at the VA said there are about thirty different anti-depressants out there and sertraline has proven particularly effective with stroke victims. He said I’d start noticing a difference in three weeks. I’m a bit worried how this will affect my writing, if it will hurt the emotional integrity of it. Please let me know if you notice anything different. I’m also not so sure how I feel about getting my mental health out of a bottle. Beggars can’t be choosers, I guess.
It says on the warnings it may effect my ability to drive or operate machinery and I should be cautious until I get used to it’s affects, so I’m afraid I’ll cut off my finger if I go down and work in my shop. I’ve got a call into the doc to see what he thinks.
The doc also recommended I see a psychiatrist, another first for me. I’ve seen therapists before, but now I’ve made the big time.
Friday, May 7, 2010
Wednesday, May 5, 2010
Worse And Worse
Tuesday evening my old small group showed up along with my friend Karen and her husband Dave and my older sister Josephine. She likes to mother me a bit too much at times. I had to tell her only my wife gets to play with my hair. Maybe Val was there, too. For every body’s visit I sat I the chair. It was important to be that I not be in the bed all the time. I didn’t want to be bed ridden.
Everybody told me how great they thought I was doing and how I didn’t look as bad as they thought I would and how clear my voice was. I thought I sounded and looked like shit. Every chance I got I looked in the mirror to see how much the right side of my face was drooping. I put on a good front for my visitors, stiff upper lip and all that. I knew I had gotten worse than I was the day before, but I didn’t want the visit to be a downer for them. Every body left about eight-thirty or nine.
I called for something for pain as my shoulder was bothering me. It had been bothering me for a year and with the stroke it got worse. It turns out I have an old rotator cuff injury. I didn’t know that yet. I watched another movie on TBS. I can’t remember if they gave me something for the pain or they told me they would let the doctor know.
Wednesday morning I couldn’t move my arm, my hand was balled into a fist I could not open and that’s when my leg would not work and I fell into the chair. The nurse came in about six to take my blood pressure and give me my morning blood thinner shot. I said something about the arm and she said she would tell the doctor and the doctor would be in soon to make his rounds. I think my wife called and I told her I was worse. She said she would be in soon.
It was a hard day and I don’t remember how everything went and what time things happened but eventually the head neurologist and the regular neurologist were in my room with me and Jackie asking what’s what? I think I had already told my wife they had said earlier they didn’t know if I would get any better than I was then. She say I just said I might not get any better. They weren’t sure what was going on with me. They said for the first time I had had a major stroke and started talking about the possibility of permanent paralysis and an maybe it was an ongoing event. They said it was important I lay back and not elevate my head too much.
They trasfered me to intensive care. Wheeled me up in a wheelchair right then. They stock those little electrode thing on my chest again so the could moniter my heart. They had done that five or six time now. I have a fairly hairy chest and it was starting to get small bald patches. They ordered another CAT scan and MRI and put me in a wheel chair and sent me down to get them. I got the CAT scan right away and then they wheeled me outside the room for the MRI and parked me in the hall.
After I was there for about ten minutes I started wondering about my head being elevated. They left me in the hall for about forty-five minutes. The technician that ran the MRI seemed to have a problem with me getting another MRI so soon. I over heard him pontificating with his staff. He seemed to be generally and big fat angry guy who thought he knew more than all the doctors. I don’t think he liked he had to fit me in to his schedule.
He didn’t like my ring in my ear. He tried to pull my ear off getting it off. “I can’t give you an MRI with that in your ear,” He said.
“The other guy taped it up,” I said.
He yanked on it some more. “That in your ear, it won’t do any good if I give you one.”
“They told me it’s bad if I sit up to long.” I said, trying to move thing along, wondering how bad it really was.
He went to make a phone call. I heard, “this guy, earring, just had one, and busy.” Then he didn’t say anything, just held the phone to his ear until he hung up. “What do I know”, he said coming back to get me. “I just run the damn thing.”
He wheeled me in and barked out orders at me, shoved me into better position on the bench thing and strapped me down, jammed this cage thing over my face so my head couldn’t move. “Lay still,” he barked.
Everybody told me how great they thought I was doing and how I didn’t look as bad as they thought I would and how clear my voice was. I thought I sounded and looked like shit. Every chance I got I looked in the mirror to see how much the right side of my face was drooping. I put on a good front for my visitors, stiff upper lip and all that. I knew I had gotten worse than I was the day before, but I didn’t want the visit to be a downer for them. Every body left about eight-thirty or nine.
I called for something for pain as my shoulder was bothering me. It had been bothering me for a year and with the stroke it got worse. It turns out I have an old rotator cuff injury. I didn’t know that yet. I watched another movie on TBS. I can’t remember if they gave me something for the pain or they told me they would let the doctor know.
Wednesday morning I couldn’t move my arm, my hand was balled into a fist I could not open and that’s when my leg would not work and I fell into the chair. The nurse came in about six to take my blood pressure and give me my morning blood thinner shot. I said something about the arm and she said she would tell the doctor and the doctor would be in soon to make his rounds. I think my wife called and I told her I was worse. She said she would be in soon.
It was a hard day and I don’t remember how everything went and what time things happened but eventually the head neurologist and the regular neurologist were in my room with me and Jackie asking what’s what? I think I had already told my wife they had said earlier they didn’t know if I would get any better than I was then. She say I just said I might not get any better. They weren’t sure what was going on with me. They said for the first time I had had a major stroke and started talking about the possibility of permanent paralysis and an maybe it was an ongoing event. They said it was important I lay back and not elevate my head too much.
They trasfered me to intensive care. Wheeled me up in a wheelchair right then. They stock those little electrode thing on my chest again so the could moniter my heart. They had done that five or six time now. I have a fairly hairy chest and it was starting to get small bald patches. They ordered another CAT scan and MRI and put me in a wheel chair and sent me down to get them. I got the CAT scan right away and then they wheeled me outside the room for the MRI and parked me in the hall.
After I was there for about ten minutes I started wondering about my head being elevated. They left me in the hall for about forty-five minutes. The technician that ran the MRI seemed to have a problem with me getting another MRI so soon. I over heard him pontificating with his staff. He seemed to be generally and big fat angry guy who thought he knew more than all the doctors. I don’t think he liked he had to fit me in to his schedule.
He didn’t like my ring in my ear. He tried to pull my ear off getting it off. “I can’t give you an MRI with that in your ear,” He said.
“The other guy taped it up,” I said.
He yanked on it some more. “That in your ear, it won’t do any good if I give you one.”
“They told me it’s bad if I sit up to long.” I said, trying to move thing along, wondering how bad it really was.
He went to make a phone call. I heard, “this guy, earring, just had one, and busy.” Then he didn’t say anything, just held the phone to his ear until he hung up. “What do I know”, he said coming back to get me. “I just run the damn thing.”
He wheeled me in and barked out orders at me, shoved me into better position on the bench thing and strapped me down, jammed this cage thing over my face so my head couldn’t move. “Lay still,” he barked.
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