Wednesday, October 04, 2006

Day 45

I have one hand holding my head tightly so it won't wobble and I won't throw up or fall over, and the other is typing. Hilarious.

The doctor (that I saw this morning) doesn't think I have a bug because I have no temperature (?). She was reluctant to do anything until the shrink had seen me - but if I don't see him within 2 days, she will shoot from the hip and make a decision on her own about medication and what to try next. In the meantime I've to stop the Lofepramene and hopefully I won't go crazy.

When I eventually got home (I had to walk very slowly for fear I might puke/fall over/pass out) and I cried for Britain, Wales and the Commonwealth. It seems so pathetic, but everything seems so futile at the moment and no-one seems prepared to go out on a limb and say, "Hey, you feel shit - lets do something about that."

I called my mum up north and asked her to call the mental centre for me, to talk to my CPN/psychologist and to cancel my counselling appointment for this afternoon. She did and was a little ferocious I think. So, the psychologist there is going to round up my 'team' and they are going to make a decision about my medication etc, then the shrink is going to call my GP. I think it's great how he, (the shrink) can make all these decisions about what to try me with next without even seeing me himself.

In the meantime, my fabulous Friday psychologist - not from the mental centre - called to check in as we'd called her yesterday too. She said that the doctor she'd spoken to about my medication said there seemed to be many more side effects with the tricyclic dugs than with the SSRI's and that I seemed to be suffering with them. I must say I agree, especially after trawling the interweb last night trying to find answers to this little problem...so I'm putting in a request to go onto another SSRI, without the helpful and very flattering, exaggerated weight gain option.

Excuse me while I go dry heave...

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