Back to the Therapy Buisness

I left off with a post about how I was feeling like therapy is really starting to make a change in my life and the feeling was reaffirmed after this week's session.  Two important things happened this week:

1. I got the results of my hormone test back.  During one of my sessions, I explained the crazy body sensations I was feeling and my therapist recommended getting my hormone levels checked.  What did I find?  I have the hormones of a woman about to enter menopause.  My cortisol levels are very low, so to get by, my body has been hoarding the chemicals and important building blocks I ingest and create to bring that level up.   In turn, this has stolen the supply of building blocks that my hormones need, so those levels tanked, too.

I am the little black dot.

While this isn't the most alarming of cases, it is significant enough to require a course of action.  I was prescribed several supplements, vitamins, and proteins to start taking.  Much to my relief, no hormones were prescribed.  This process should begin next week.

2. I had a panic attack on Tuesday.  

It had been a while since I had had one, and this was friendly reminder that I do in fact have an anxiety disorder, instead of this line of "anxiety is just a little something I struggle with" that I have been feeding myself.  I had been feeling overwhelmed, cry-faced, and exhausted and it all came to a head in a swirling moment of dizziness, terror, sweating, and gasping for air.  I sat on the front step, trying not to pass out.  I was crying and feeling so burnt out, not even cognizant of the neighbors in their driveway a few feet away.  I knew what I was feeling in that moment, but I couldn't explain why.  I couldn't pinpoint specific events or concerns that had accumulated to this feeling of panic.

Two days later, I cozied into that familiar couch and I talked to my therapist.  I cried about feeling overwhelmed and she helped me to breakdown this generalized feeling of despair into: unbalanced energy in vs. energy out, sadness that my students come from such desperate situations and I can't really do anything about it, my lack of boundaries that have kept me from declaring the things I need for fear of disappointing/annoying others, I haven't defined my role in my new school, I haven't made a personal mission statement to guide me on a daily basis, etc. (the list is truly long) 

After that session, I drove home quieter.  I really thought about the things she said and my mind was changed.  Not in a dramatic way, but a little synapse lit up a new part of my brain.  The part of my brain that has decided to live a specific life.  I want to live in clarity.  I feel that thinking about my place in the world and making choices about my job here, will turn my feet in the right direction.  I have been quite lost. Sparing the road of life metaphor and a diatribe about my loathing of the GPS, I am way off course.  I can't get ahead because I am just wandering around in a dark cave with a bag on my head.  I haven't been able to get my bearings enough to pick a direction to go.  But I do think, that being specific might get me back above ground.  So being specific, I will remind myself,  "I have an anxiety disorder.  I have boundary issues.  I struggle with codependency.  I have a negative image of myself.  These are things I have.  They are not things I am.  I want to live a life of value and purpose, beginning with restoring my own self care so that I have enough energy to share it with those I love and those who need it."

The Kid Turns One

Some how this sweet child has survived a year with his dad and I as his caretakers.  Don't get me wrong, we try..."wicked hard", but it still seems crazy that we actually pulled it off.  As I sit down for a brief minute before the family comes rolling in to celebrate, interrupted only by poopy diapers and phone calls from the pediatric ENT, I feel reflective and sentimental.

In the first year of baby life, we have both learned so much.  If I could tell a new mom a few things that I have discovered as I recieve my "One Year" pin, it would be:

1.  You will never be "old you" and that may be frustrating and lonely for a while.  I was convinced that I would be rested and clean by this point in little man's childhood, but alas, I am not.  I thought that soft belly skin would dissipate.  I thought my marriage would be just as easy as before.  I was wrong on all counts, but I am learning that this is actually a much better me, mostly because it isn't so much "me" anymore as it is spouse/parent/grown-up.  I have more richness in my life as cliche as it sounds, I really do love more than I did before.

2. Don't use the baby to belittle your partner.  Using some squeaky version of your own voice to comment on the elasticity of the mashed potatoes, does not make it hurt any less.  And a baby doesn't give a shit about the viscosity of his root vegetables, they would never say that.  This has happened to me and been done by me, but no more.  I will not use my child to hurt my spouse.

3. You are going to do a good job.  Things are going to worry you and keep you up at night that don't bother your babe a bit.  My son's daycare started feeding him "kitchen food" this week.  He had: chili, chicken nuggets, and fish sticks this week.  I have only cried about it a half dozen times, but he is no worse for the wear and his guts are hard at work learning to process the processed garbage that he will be demanding in a few years.  Your insistence on bringing the hormone free milk to his daycare everyday, or your choice to have him roll with the mainstream and not interfere are both equally valid, you will do what you think is right and in that way you will be right.

4. Babies get sick.  My child has never gone for a "well visit" and not had some health issue: ringworm, eye infections, ear infections, C Diff, etc.  He has been on gobs of antibiotics and other meds, but it is okay.  Even though I am a nut about natural living and don't take medicine myself (if I can help it), babies get sick, but they are fierce little creatures and they will get through it.  Even though the baby is coughing, try to sleep.  It will help you both.  Also, co-sleeping does wonders when your nerves are shot.  It is my go-to remedy to get both of us through sickness.

5.  Don't judge people who are childless.  A good friend told me that he and his wife don't want kids, they like to travel and pick up and go without planning/packing/etc.  My first reaction was (embarrassingly) a judgmental reaction of "wow, how selfish?".   Then my mind punched itself.  While this first year of motherhood has consumed my brain and I have felt my own growth as a person, it is so unfair to judge those who don't want to venture down this road.  People still grow and learn and get more incredible without kids.  And just because they sleep better at night, doesn't make them less accomplished, valuable, or generous.  So train your brain, that while you have made the choice to procreate, "it takes all kind a' people to make the world go round" (as my Nee-Nee would say).

 6.  Just keep going, one day at a time and before you know it, that sweet bundle of joy will be one.


Love,
J

Fever Fun

Last weekend, little man felt warm.  A few hours later he felt hot.  A few hours after that?  Boiling!  For 2 days my husband and I watched in horror as our first born's temperature spiked up and down, reaching as high as 104.3 degrees.  For endless hours we debated whether or not to take him to the ER.  I called a number of urgent care places (trying to avoid the chaos and supergerms of the ER), but no one would see kids under 18 months.  Knowing the ER was the only option we tried to work him through it at home.

Our kind on-call doctor was on speed dial all weekend, and she patiently told me the same thing over and over again, "If you can make him comfortable and keep him drinking, he will be okay, but take him to the ER if you start to feel uncomfortable about the temperature."  She also told us about the femoral seizures that can occur when temperatures spike too quickly.  Thus creating shear panic in us as parents. 

Countless numbers of tepid baths, many with he and I in the tub together-as he was too tired to sit up by himself for the length of time it helped to bring the fever down, were given.  Oral doses of ibuprofen.  Anal suppositories of acetaminophen. Old-timey remedies of salted socks and essential oils in his humidifier water- nothing seemed to work.

I kept telling myself (though I wasn't truly believing) that the fever was good and his body was hard at work protecting itself.  I also decided that it was probably viral and that taking him to the doctor would be a waste because they wouldn't be able to do anything.  However, come day three of a fever over 102, my reasoning began to seem weak- it was time to take him to see the doc.  

My husband and I made a plan, wherein he would take our son to the doc at about 9:00, so I got up and started to get ready for work at 6:45.  I grabbed the baby from his bed and laid him down with my husband to cuddle, soothe, and monitor him.  At 8:15 when my husband's alarm went off, he awoke to find my side of the bed a disgusting, sweaty mess.  Guess who's fever finally broke?

Having already set up the appointment and wanting to get to the root of all this mess, my husband took him to see the pediatrician, who informed us that little booger had a double ear infection.  Hmm, so advice from someone who didn't get it completely right?

Well, here it goes:
If your baby is experiencing a fever:
1.  Let them drink anything they will accept.  I, to my horror, gave my son some Sprite- fresh from the McDonald's fountain.  I desperately wanted to keep him from dehydrating, so I did whatever I thought might work, and he did not get dehydrated.
2. If acetaminophen isn't working, try ibuprofen.  I was always told to use tylenol and that is what the doctor recommended, but after 2 days of it not working, she suggested to try ibuprofen.  And it worked.
3. Anal suppositories, while very gross and very weird, are magical.  The stupid fight of making a baby ingest medicine while they are thrashing around makes it so hard to tell how much they actually got.  These are a once and done deal.  You know exactly what they got and it gets into their system fast.
4. If your child is not desperately ill, call your insurance company.  I called early on in the fever trail and they were able to tell me how to anticipate the cost of ER vs. Urgent Care, etc.  It was helpful to know our options.
5. If you are having no success, think outside the box.  After finding out that Bubba had a double ear infection, we started an antibiotic.  After two doses, he began showing signs of an allergic reaction.  With no medicine to help him, I started looking for other ways to help him in this fight.  I took him to see a chiropractor this week who adjusted him.  I know it seems odd and it was a little hard to watch him lay on the table (he cried when he was laying there, but stopped immediately when I picked him up, he was scared, but not in pain) but it was been three days without meds and the adjustment seems to have taken some pressure off his ears and no signs of a returning infection have surfaced.
6. Enjoy the bizarro version of your child who will cuddle you and watch movies.  It is heartbreaking, but also the sweetest thing to see your baby take so much comfort in a mom and dad.  

Trying the salt in the socks method my Nee-Nee swears by.

Normal Life Stuff, not Mental Issues Stuff

So my kid is almost one.  A whole year old.  I can't believe how much I think about where I was this time last year.  When the weather is just so, or same tv shows start back up with their fall line up, I am reminded of the pregnant version of myself a year ago.  And for the first time since my son was born, I started to get a little sentimental about it all.  Like, "oh, I see why people do this again".  Truthfully, until now, the thought of a having another baby made my insides quake.

Now that little bubba is getting older, he has become so much fun.  Infinity times harder to manage (I didn't understand how that could be possible), but really fun.  We do things.  Really do things together.  And it is the best.  This last week he picked up the word mom.  I turn to mush every time I hear it, though it is mostly heard when he is yelling at me while I suction his nose.

Why am I suctioning his nose?  Because the sweet boys sinuses are draining out of his eyes.  He looks like he has two black eyes, it is the saddest thing.  I don't know if it is allergies, sinus infection, or teething, but it is gross.

In addition to booger-y gross.  He has been very, very poop gross.  After producing the most potent baby poo 4-5 times a day, through his diaper and clothes, we took him to see the doc.  A stool sample revealed that the little man has C. Diff.  A bacteria that he shouldn't have in his gut.  So he is taking a medication for that three times a day. 

Medicine three times a day?  Nah, how about four times a day!?  Remember that ringworm post from three months ago?  Yep, still fighting that battle.  These meds, which blend nicely into apple juice, are finally starting to take hold and this ringworm is on the way out.

Sometimes I feel like he is never not sick.  I can't recall a time when he did not have some sort of aliment: ear infection, fungal infection, etc.  He is, however, a healthy boy and praise the lord for that.  All his internal body systems work, his motor skills are on track and his ol' noggin is firing on all cylinders.  I am incredibly thankful for that.

He is crawling, eating actual food, obsessed with the Dog book that we read every night.  He has figured out how to manipulate all his toys to make them light up and make music.  He can call for his dad and wave goodbye.  He is my hearts delight. 

Therapy

So I tried the meds.  I felt crappy.  I stopped the meds.

Then the new prescritption came, but I decided to go rogue.  I felt the need to let my body and brain rest, so I did not start the medication-this one is called Lexapro.  I made some reference to the fact that I wasn't taking them to my husband, who got real serious faced and told me that he thought I needed to be taking them, that a doctor would not have prescribed them if the need wasn't there.  Okay I thought.  I will take them.  (But I still didn't)

That week, I started therapy.  Yep, the whole "talk about it while someone with a notepad takes notes" buisness.  Getting to this point was very hard though.  I called a million places trying to get this process started, but I found that: a) they don't have any therapists that accept Cigna insurance, b) it costs $150+ an hour, c) the last session was at 4 (I get out of work at 4:15), or d) no one called me back.

Losing hope and getting angry, I typed into the google search bar exactly what I was looking for and found Agape.  A national group of people who support people.  I called and they got me in for the next week.  I got a 5:00 appointment, too!  They don't accept my insurance, but the fees are $40 a session.  Yay for being in the lower income bracket!

*update*
It has been almost an month since I started typing this post.  And I can say that I am starting to feel different.  I am still unmedicated, but I am working on coming to terms with my anxiety.  I mean, it is has cost me nearly $200 to realize that I have an anxiety disorder and that I need to accept it.

 I had something I could liken to a small breakthrough in my last session, when my therapist told me that when I feel like my arms aren't attached or my head is floating away, or I am the only one in the world who feels this way and everyone is different and better and I am alone, that I needed to stop and say to myself, "This is the anxiety."  I know that seems glaringly obvious.  Like, really, I know how clear that should have been, but I needed to hear it and needed to practice it.  The art of depersonalizing the crazy things that your body does is not an innate skill.  However, I have seen a change in myself by following this technique.  When I start to panic, I remind myself, this is the anxiety.  It isn't me.  It is the anxiety.

I can't express how much relief this one small change has brought me.  My life is different now than it was a week ago.  I am so grateful.

Sertaline

In my last post I admitted that I am struggling with my mental state.  I wish that "admitted" wasn't the word to use, but it is what describes the feeling of telling others that you have brain issues-like a secret you have to admit with caution.   I do admit it, however, in hopes of opening up the dialogue about mental health.  It should not be something so secretive that people feel nervous writing it down in a quasi anonymous blog. (getting off soap box)

All that said, I wrote that I would be addressing this problem.  Not sure how to begin,  I called my OB doctor- since this is most likely baby related.  His nurse called back and said go to my regular doctor and could offer me no help or advice.

Step One: Call doc
I called up my general care physician who said he could get me in a few days later.  You should know, I am not a big fan of this doctor. He is someone I found on a list of who accepts my insurance within 3 miles of my house and I just put up with his lack of personality and sub-par wait times out of convenience.  After making the appointment, I began to feel extra anxious from that point on.

Step Two: Go to Appointment
I went into the appointment with a pretty good idea of what was going on, thanks to my internet self-diagnosis.  I told him all the things I had been feeling and he agreed that I had anxiety. He took some notes, pointed out that I had ringworm on arm (thanks, kiddo), and wrote me a script.  I drove to Walgreens and picked up my generic Zoloft medicine.  five dollars.

Step Three: Drugs
I got home and took the first dose before going to bed as it makes a lot of people tired.  I woke up in the morning feeling the same, no immediate side effects, so that was good.  I guess.  I kept taking the meds in the evening and monitored my feelings.  On day three, we went to the home depot to get some house fixer-upper supplies.  As we walked through the store, my husband excitedly looking at light fixtures, I thought, "what is it all for?"  And that was the beginning.  During that first week on the Sertaline, I felt those creepy, over-sad-Eeyore, we are all a pile of nothing- thoughts.  It seemed like my anxiety was ok, my body was ok, but my brain was a deep, dark, hole.  Oh, and, uh, martial relations...nope.  Not on these pills.

Step Four: Make executive decision 
 I felt too disconnected to the world to keep on with the medicine any longer.  I called the doc, told him how I felt, and he immediately called in something else.  Not encouraging.  

Where I am

I have entered a new phase as a mom.  I had a pretty smooth sailing pregnancy, a no hiccups delivery, and have a very happy baby.  Things, truly, have gone so well.  But, (of course there is a but) I feel bad.

Over the last few months, I have felt the following things:
Dizziness
Mental confusion
Funny body sensations
Panic Attacks
Shallow breathing
Side cramps
Busy headedness
Disrupted sleep
Generally worked up
Overwhelmed
Body betrayal (excessive clumsiness and the like)
Loss of apetite
Weird and scary thoughts
Thinking I was becoming a nutcase
Planetarium stomach (a term coined by my sister that means, the inability to process everything and it makes you feel tiny and swirly and nauseous to try and comprehend all that is around you, which is heightened when I think about my baby's whole life)

I started to think I was crazy.  Or that I had Lupus.

I called my doctor several months back and told him I felt out of sorts, fatigued, and sick-ish.  He took blood work, which all came back normal.  I began to feel better after that, and thought it was a fluke virus or something.  Then those feelings started to come back a few months later.  But this time they were more aggressive.  There was a moment in Kroger when I thought I was going to die (I am not being sarcastic.  I truly thought I was having a heart attack and I was going to die right there.  And some aproned employee would find my body draped over all the cartons of eggs, that would be sticky and wet since I would have crushed them as I fell to my demise.).

But the crazy thing is, if someone would have asked, I would have said that I did not feel stressed or anxious.  I thought that these things that were happening were physical and not related to my mental state.  I was wrong.  After searching the symptom "feeling drunk when haven't been drinking"  I landed in a blog about post-partum anxiety.  And it was the first time that it even dawned on me, the fact that I had a baby in the last year might have done something to my brain.

I knew about post-partum depression.  I was keenly aware of my mental state in those first few days and was happy to find that I wasn't burdened with that challenge.  However, my understanding of this disorder was that it had a short window of time to strike and that it would always show its face through sadness.  I didn't know that it was much bigger than that.

After I read that blog post, I started thinking.  I thought about all that I had been through in the last year.  I found my list of woes and life changes to be rather long and pretty gloomy.  I think it was the first time I really thought about it.  Making a career change for myself, an unexpected loss of employment for my husband, switching daycares for my son.  Then I kept thinking.  I thought about the day that my beautiful nephew was born, I was standing in the snow, listening to "Taps" being played as my son's name sake was lowered into the ground.  I thought about looking into the rearview mirror and seeing a fifteen passenger van slam into the back of my vehicle on the interstate.  I thought about it all and realized-I needed some help.  (the list goes on.)  And what I found was that,  right now, this life thing has gotten bigger than I can handle.  I believed that I could walk these thoughts away, or meditate them away, or bible them away, but nothing worked.  And my brain, which tries hard not to think about all these things, is telling me(through crazy symptoms) that there is a problem that needs to be addressed.  I am addressing that problem.


The following site helped me realize what was going on.  If you feel at all like I have described, take a read.
http://www.postpartumprogress.com/the-symptoms-of-postpartum-depression-anxiety-in-plain-mama-english