……to have a doctor who puts the “care” in healthcare. And to know that this hellish feeling will more than likely be gone soon.
After fighting these damnable mood swings for the past several weeks, I finally put my pride in my back pocket and called Dr. A’s office this afternoon. I knew with his abbreviated schedule that he was probably already at the hospital making rounds, and when I left my message I did say it wasn’t critical, so I didn’t expect to hear anything till Wednesday when he’s back in the clinic.
But even though I wasn’t crying hysterically or shouting into the phone like I normally do when I’m in crisis, he obviously thought it was more critical than I did, for he called me back right after his last session for the day. As always, he was kind and soothing, and it only took my saying “I feel like I’m heading into something like what happened last spring” for him to make the call: Zyprexa 5 mg every night until further notice.
I was a little surprised—I thought he’d increase my other antipsychotic—but he was very certain that I need the Z. And I’m too grateful to second-guess him because regardless of its side effects, Zyprexa is what WORKS. It’s been one hundred percent effective in dealing with my manic and mixed episodes thus far, and while I don’t want to be on it forever, it’s the best stuff on Earth for these occasions.
I take that back: I wish I could be on it forever, because it does work so well and it’s cheap. Trouble is, I get insanely hungry and gain weight, and then my blood sugars go ape shit. But hey, what’s a few (more) extra pounds and diabetes when the alternative is falling down the rabbit-hole?
I’m supposed to call back in two weeks with a progress report, or sooner if I’m not getting better so he can get me in to see him before my next scheduled appointment. I’m not too worried about that. There is a battle plan, we know the Zyprexa works, and that alone takes away some of the stress. In fact……I feel better already. 🙂