Dr. Candy Crush, Dogs, & Triggers
I saw my psychiatrist today for a medication management appointment. Yes, Dr. Candy Crush, again.
In her defense, she was actually pretty focused today.
I attribute this mainly to the brevity of the appointment and the fact that I came straight in, disregarded the usual pleasantries, and immediately stated my request. I’m growing fairly certain she’s ADHD.
Although, the perpetual communication breakdown probably lies with me. I’m the patient and am therefore, the affected one.
Hard-knuckling through a bi-monthly face-to-face of endless, repetitive droning about my *horrible life cognition* has got to be brutal, whether her time’s compensated or not. I mean, who would sit, hands steepled, transfixed, while I regale them with fresh hell from neuron-to-synapse-to-mouth?
Like I said, it was a brief visit because this combination of medications *seems to be working the best* with the most tolerable? side effects. Today was simply a matter of dosage adjustment.
By the time I got finished with the appointment and over to the SMA pharmacy to get it filled, Dr. Candy Crush had left her office for the day. This swift departure was problematic because the pharmacist needed to consult with her about my medication dosing because it was SO EXCESSIVE (her words) and she wouldn’t be able to fill it without the doctor’s verbal confirmation even though it was the doctor who wrote the prescription in the first place.
So, it turns out that because I’m EXCESSIVELY INSANE, I will have to wait until tomorrow to get the mess sorted out, but luckily! I have enough of all my medications to take enough of the newly prescribed doses from now until then, so all is well. 
Because I do not drive, and have not for the last year and a half, my dad picked me up from this appointment. (My transportation is my bicycle unless conditions are unsafe, weather is inclement, or the destination too far.)
On our way back to my house, we stopped at a corner market so I could pick something up while he took a phone call in his car. I walked out of the store with my purchase and went straight to the passenger side and got back in.
He finished his phone call and asked, “Was that triggering for you?”, and I asked “What?” thinking maybe he meant something in the store and/or being around food unassisted, even though this isn’t new exposure for me. And he responded, “That girl that walked in. The one who passed right by you as you were walking out. She was obviously Anorexic. She was totally emaciated. Either that, or she was dying of cancer.”
I was completely surprised that I hadn’t noticed her; hadn’t zeroed in on her; hadn’t seen her a mile away. My Eating Disorder Radar was malfunctioning?? I suppose I could have just missed her. But if she were right in front of me? That’s interesting. Maybe my hypervigilance is being slightly curbed by the medication as well. Maybe the forced habit of “Bouncing My Eyes” has got something to it after all.
I had commented maybe ten minutes earlier to my dad, that I’d been feeling slightly less body conscious. It’s been very emotionally difficult for me, having restored weight and at times I still feel conflicted. I’ve recently lost a little; a very insignificant amount; maybe a stone, but that’s just fine because I’m still safely within the healthy range for my height. Plus, any minor fluctuations could just be water weight due to all the recent changes in medications.
I’m going to not allow that to trigger me either.
Besides the focus factor of the Dr. Candy Crush appointment, she did ask about my plans to get a new pet to replace Rennie.
I was going through a very hard time about 5 months after Rennie died, when my Depression really took over my life to the point where I felt like it was dangerous to be alone. At that time, I stayed with my mom for a little over two months.
I’ve since returned home, living at my house for more than a month now.
My psychiatrist suggested it might be time to start thinking about getting a new pet, as I’d been accustomed to having Rennie for almost half my life (14 years). I know it is inevitable to lose pets and Rennie was very old, but the way she died was brutal and violent, and she’s been with me through a lot.
My house is small, so I really want another little dog, although big dogs are amazing and if I could squeeze one into 700 square feet I would. This is all just wishful thinking, and probably not practical, based on my current living situation, but I miss Rennie everyday, and I cry every time I see her pictures. I wonder how long it takes to finish grieving a pet?
(c) Bulimia – SaltandPepperTheEarth – Read entire story here.
