I don't have you, nyah-nyah! :P
Not that I thought I did. Until yesterday when I went to the doctor for my annual check-up. As my luck would have it, Sunday afternoon my ear started hurting like h-e-double hockey sticks, especially when I yawned or opened my mouth. And then Monday when I woke up, I couldn't hear out of that ear. It didn't hurt anymore, but it felt like it was jammed full of . . . well, cotton, I suppose. Sound-proof cotton. Sure, that's a thing.
So off I went to my already-scheduled appointment, feeling like crap but hey! What a coincidence. I just had to fight the urge to get through all the other mumbo-jumbo (you know, vitals and labs and this and that and the other) and beg the nice doctor to please look in my ear because I know something is wrong [it's probably a huge tumor about to explode ha ha just kidding I know it's just a little fluid but it's driving me crazy]. I don't want to talk about my food journal, I want to talk about my ear. I don't want to talk about depression (but I do want to talk about depression, that's another part of the reason I'm here) but I really want to talk about my ear first please.
So we get to talking about my ear. And she asks if I've been sick at all, which I knew she would because it's the same line of questioning I would've run through. It's been baffling me, as well. No, I've been fine. Great, actually. We had been out of town all weekend, celebrating our belated Valentine's celebration in Duluth, no I haven't been coughing, no I haven't had a runny nose, no I haven't --OH MY GOSH WAIT A SECOND!! Last week, out of the blue, one day after work I suddenly came down with a 24-hour bug. I felt just like I did after I got my COVID vaccine -- achy, low-grade fever, just all-over blecch. I even called in to work the next day. It never went farther than that, but it was weird. Once I mentioned that to the doctor (damn me and my thinking out loud!) you could see the light bulb over her head flicker on. I wanted to yell, No! IT'S NOT COVID!! But it was too late. The COVID screening questions began. No, to my knowledge I haven't been around anyone with COVID. No symptoms other than Tuesday and now this ear infection. Yes, I had my vaccine. Yes, I know the J&J vaccine "only" gives me a 60-70% chance of not catching the 'rona. . . . WTF. Sure. I'll get tested.
Long story short, their rapid testing machine wasn't working. I got two "invalid" results in a row. She wrote me a work note saying I should stay home until my symptoms resolved and told me I should go get tested somewhere else. Oh, and gave me antibiotics for my ear infection. And quickly escorted me out the side door because she didn't want me going through the waiting room -- I'd be exposed to too many other people that way.
I went out to my car like, WTF just happened?! I don't have the 'rona. I can't have the 'rona! That would be awfully inconvenient. I can't go home, I have an online patient in 30 minutes (which I found out about while I was sitting in the exam room waiting for my first inconclusive test to come back) and I'm supposed to work on-site today anyway. My options were to drive the 10 minutes to work and hole up in my office all day, or drive the 45 minutes home and be a major inconvenience by asking someone else to cover the patient I hadn't even prepped for. Against my better judgement (but not really because I was 98% sure I didn't have the 'rona), I went to work. It's actually pretty easy to hole up in my office all day and not interact with other people, lol.
So, that's why I had a COVID test this morning. By the time I got back home, I had the email saying it was negative. I had a date scheduled with my tattoo artist today, which I cancelled yesterday because I didn't know. I cancelled dinner with my parents last night because I didn't know. Actually, yesterday I was feeling pretty crappy -- after all, I do still have the ear infection. But that's how even a 'rona scare can mess up your plans. I've had this tattoo date made for a while. I even took PTO. But I didn't want to chance it, and I didn't know I'd have the results back this fast, and I didn't know how I'd feel today, and I didn't know for sure that it'd be negative. Better safe than sorry.
But the good news is, I also talked to my doctor yesterday about my depression medication regimen. Because it hasn't been doing it's job lately. Because in January I stopped taking the one medication. Because I ran out and because it increases my blood pressure and I wanted to keep my blood pressure down and I figured, I'm on three medications, surely I can get by with just two of them! HA HA HA HA. Surely, as it turns out, I cannot. This one medication is a mild stimulant and to get it refilled, I have to have lab work and/or actually make an appointment to see my doctor every six months which I don't always do, which is another reason I didn't get it refilled. Because nurses are horrible patients. And people with mental illnesses are horrible patients.
It's a predictable circle. When I go off of that medication, I start spiraling downward. I can see it happening, but I feel like I can't do anything about it. By the time those around me start saying something about it, I already know I'm at rock bottom but don't want to talk about it because I'm ashamed that I let it happen again. I mean, seriously; how fricking hard is it to refill a stupid medication and take another stupid pill every fricking day!?!
But by the time I'm at that point, another stupid thing happens. I start getting even more depressed and mad that I have to take stupid pills just to be "normal". Why can't people just accept me for who I am? Why do I have to drug myself to fit in? Why can't I be the crazy cat lady? Why does this one stupid little white pill (actually, only half a pill) make such a profound difference in who I am???? It's just stupid. Everything is stupid. Medication is stupid. People are stupid. Life is stupid. The world is stupid. Society is stupid. I just want to be me. Everybody else gets to be themselves, why can't I just be me? So what if I'm crazy? Maybe I need shock therapy. No one understands mental illness. I hate mental illness. I hate it! I can be doing just fine and then BAM! Up out of nowhere. It's not fair. It's so not fair. People who say this isn't a chronic illness can kiss my ass. This disease is going to kill me. It's going to drive everyone I love away from me and I'm going to die of loneliness, because no one can stand to be around me unless I'm medicated. I'm a monster. Why did I ever start taking these things?
Just a sample for ya there. You'd think with my mind running like that, I'd be, like, manic or something, but no. Just the opposite. My house right now is a mess. There's two inches of dust on everything. I've had no motivation to do anything. There are dust bunnies behind my chair bigger than my dog. I know that if I could get my house clean, it would help. But I can't get the gumption to get off my ass and clean the house.
So in case you were wondering, depression sucks.
BUT! I got my wonderful stupid little white pills again now, and should be feeling normal again soon. And the antibiotics I'm taking for my ear infection should be starting to kick in soon as well. And I still have the day off, even though I'm not getting tattooed, and I have the house all to myself for a few more hours. So I think I'm going to sign off and get the house tidied up. Time to kick the depression dragon to the curb and take back my life. And if I need the help of [half of] a little white pill to do that, then so be it.
See ya later, frens.
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