Well, it is the New Year. I admittedly threw over the final set of prompts. I was tired of their sameness, and while self-reflection is good, this exercise was beginning to strike me more as self-absorption.
The year ended with a completely crushing disappointment for me. Atenolol, the medication to which I switched two weeks ago in my attempt to control my migraines, started causing side effects that were intolerable, and/or precursors of more severe side effects. I left a message for my neurologist on Friday, Dec. 31, knowing he wasn't expected back in the office until January 4. I knew I couldn't stop this medication cold turkey without endangering myself, so I thought I would have to wait until Tuesday, and just cope with the side effects, making sure they did not take a turn for the worse.
So I was surprised that he called me at 9:30 PM on New Year's Eve; perhaps he was the Neurologist On-Call for the evening, but he uncharacteristically checked his messages on a Friday. He told me to titrate of the atenolol. I already had an appointment scheduled for mid-February, but I said to him I guessed I should reschedule the appointment for an earlier date. He began to hem and haw a little, and said something like, "I am always glad to see you, we can talk about the frequency of your headaches. I really think you should go back on Depakote in the fall." First of all, no. I will not go back on Depakote, and I have told him that repeatedly. But his message was clear. There is nothing else left in his pharmacological arsenal for me to try.
I had thought I was going to try the SSRI Cymbalta, until my psychiatrist nixed it, seemingly out of nowhere. He is now adamantly opposed to my using it, even though he told me in early May that the dose of Cymbalta used for migraine were so tiny that it would have no activating effect on my mood. SSRIs are generally no-nos for bipolar people, which was the whole point of that visit, to see if he thought I could handle it. I have in my notes that he said I could. He either changed his mind, or forgot, but it made me feel foolish. I really don't like to give the impression that I am pushing around my doctors (not that it doesn't happen). But this time I really wasn't, I was suggesting a medication that I have a record of his permitting.
But the long and short of it is, I have reached the end of the medication merry-go-round. With SSRIs eliminated, there is no other class of medication left to try as prophylaxis. I am now officially reliant solely on OTC analgesics, sumatriptan, and medical cannabis. As far as my neurologist is concerned, I can visit him sooner, or I can visit him later, there is nothing more he can do. I am going to beg and plead for a referral to the UCSF Headache Clinic. I have no idea if they have anything to offer, but they are the West Coast center for people like me.
Planner that I am, I already have contingency plans in case the UCSF Clinic, to which I have not yet been referred, is unable to help me.
So yeah. Way to end 2010.
Which just puts me in a morose mood for all of the challenges we already know we must face in 2011. I have foot surgery again. Then my husband has brain surgery. And at some point in 2011, I need to get over to Berkeley medical school, to have an eye I am losing vision in examined, and treated.
If all those events go smoothly, 2011 holds a lot of promise. But it also holds a lot of pitfalls. It seems as if the entire duration of my relationship with DH has been stumbling from one drama to the next. Our health issues have definitely meant there are dimensions to cope with beyond the usual loving and cherishing we would naturally provide each other: There is frustration and fear, for starters.
I burnt a candle on the Solstice, and again on the New Year, to send up all the bad vibrations and echoes of 2010 into the ether. I have my superstitions. Although if you ask me, I'll admit, I don't truly believe in them. But I like rituals, and superstitions are ripe for ritual. Rituals give me a false sense of control that is comforting, in spite of my knowing I am fooling myself.
2011 is also the Chinese year of the Rabbit, which is my birth sign. I turn 48. I fall under the water element, and am supposed to have a good career year. That would be nice for a change.
I know good things are in store, too. I am looking forward to further involvement in the Medical Cannabis community. Our tenth wedding anniversary is a huge milestone for us. And my third Oregon Country Fair is another anniversary of sorts. My French Bulldog Violet turned 7 on New Year's day, which is always auspicious.
Now if I could just locate my wallet....
