That evening, after office hours, my therapist rings our bell
Thank God, Cary knows my strengths and vulnerabilities …
Annie, it's good that you called, but
You don't need to be hospitalized
You're producing an over-abundance of adrenalin—
Once we readjust your adrenal glands and
Get them functioning at a normal pace
Your adrenalin level will decrease, and as your heart stops
Pumping fear-based chemicals through your vessles
Your fearful reaction will rebalance, and so will your thinking …
So, how do we do that?
With medication that will slow everything down—
Slow everything down?
Yes, your adrenal glands, heart rate
Quick, shallow intakes of breath and cortisol production
Oh. You mean like one thing leads to another
So everything gets better or worse …
Cary nods, and when he offers me a smile, one of mine slips out ...
Normally, I'm not one to take mood altering medication, because of my need to know that I'm in control of myself, but I can't gain control over whatever is terrifying me until it shows itself to me, and intuition suggests that won't happen until this runaway fear calms down. So though much of me feels hesitant about taking this drug, I can't stand feeling like this, so I follow Cary's lead when he calls my internist, who, knowing my sensitivity to medication, agrees to prescribe the lowest dosage.
That night, I can't fall asleep in the Murphy bed; I'd rather lie awake in an uncomfortable state next to Will. So, I spend the night going back and forth, from bed to bed, depending upon which seems more pressing: feeling less insecure while next to Will or feeling a lessening of physical pain while on my own …
The next day, I force myself to swallow the first dose of medication, which utterly drugs me out. Drugged out and still tense as an electrified wire—this feels even worse than before, so I think: Darkest before the dawn. (The fact that my state of mind, concerning the future, remains positively focused should be reassuring, but this insight does not register until weeks later when peaceful reflection replaces my determination to free my mind from terror.)
Ellie stays with Will when David takes me to the internist, who suggests I half the dose. So, I call Cary to consult with him.
Cary, I can't stand feeling drugged and tense, all at once; is it ok if I halve the dose?
Yes, but you need to give it a few days to slow down your physical reactions.
The next day, I cut the pill and force myself to swallow half of the lowest dosage, only to find that this awful reaction does not let up. I imagine that weaning my body off of this adrenalin 'high' (?) feels like going through detox while weaning the body from drugs.
Later that same day, David and I engage in
A brief, brainstorming, problem-solving discussion.
I start with: We need a division of labor
David looks seriously puzzled until I ask him to consider this simple plan:
If I'm in charge of my emotional recovery and
Dad is in charge of his physical recovery
Will you be in charge of food?
At this, David chuckles. Me in charge of food?
Sure, Mom. I can do that. That's why I'm here, and
I'll stay as long as you and Dad need me.
David's reply wins my smile. Smiles produce serotonin. More serotonin, less cortisol; change for the better begets more smiles than brow furrowing frowns. We needed this plan, because we can't expect meals to arrive with friends and neighbors, indefinitely.
David is a screen writer
His series season is over
He's waiting to see if the show will be picked up for a fourth season
Along with timing, our youngest son's positive attitude and
Heartfelt generosity are everything …
When I thank David profusely for helping us, he replies:
We help each other, Mom—that's what we do …
As the depth of my gratitude can't be conveyed in words
I hug my son close …
And drugged or not, I'm more determined than ever to
Get to the bottom of this baggage and pull my load …
Thank goodness, Will continues to improve, daily—with this exception
After being home for a week, the catheter hose
Has become exceptionally irritating at its place of insertion …
As both of us are in need of releasing stress
We actually laugh with comic relief when
The catheter bag springs a leak ...
Guess springing a leak is not unusual, because
Will had been sent home from the hospital 22 hours after
His five hour cancer surgery—with a spare …
Thank God, Cary knows my strengths and vulnerabilities …
Annie, it's good that you called, but
You don't need to be hospitalized
You're producing an over-abundance of adrenalin—
Once we readjust your adrenal glands and
Get them functioning at a normal pace
Your adrenalin level will decrease, and as your heart stops
Pumping fear-based chemicals through your vessles
Your fearful reaction will rebalance, and so will your thinking …
So, how do we do that?
With medication that will slow everything down—
Slow everything down?
Yes, your adrenal glands, heart rate
Quick, shallow intakes of breath and cortisol production
Oh. You mean like one thing leads to another
So everything gets better or worse …
Cary nods, and when he offers me a smile, one of mine slips out ...
Normally, I'm not one to take mood altering medication, because of my need to know that I'm in control of myself, but I can't gain control over whatever is terrifying me until it shows itself to me, and intuition suggests that won't happen until this runaway fear calms down. So though much of me feels hesitant about taking this drug, I can't stand feeling like this, so I follow Cary's lead when he calls my internist, who, knowing my sensitivity to medication, agrees to prescribe the lowest dosage.
That night, I can't fall asleep in the Murphy bed; I'd rather lie awake in an uncomfortable state next to Will. So, I spend the night going back and forth, from bed to bed, depending upon which seems more pressing: feeling less insecure while next to Will or feeling a lessening of physical pain while on my own …
The next day, I force myself to swallow the first dose of medication, which utterly drugs me out. Drugged out and still tense as an electrified wire—this feels even worse than before, so I think: Darkest before the dawn. (The fact that my state of mind, concerning the future, remains positively focused should be reassuring, but this insight does not register until weeks later when peaceful reflection replaces my determination to free my mind from terror.)
Ellie stays with Will when David takes me to the internist, who suggests I half the dose. So, I call Cary to consult with him.
Cary, I can't stand feeling drugged and tense, all at once; is it ok if I halve the dose?
Yes, but you need to give it a few days to slow down your physical reactions.
The next day, I cut the pill and force myself to swallow half of the lowest dosage, only to find that this awful reaction does not let up. I imagine that weaning my body off of this adrenalin 'high' (?) feels like going through detox while weaning the body from drugs.
Later that same day, David and I engage in
A brief, brainstorming, problem-solving discussion.
I start with: We need a division of labor
David looks seriously puzzled until I ask him to consider this simple plan:
If I'm in charge of my emotional recovery and
Dad is in charge of his physical recovery
Will you be in charge of food?
At this, David chuckles. Me in charge of food?
Sure, Mom. I can do that. That's why I'm here, and
I'll stay as long as you and Dad need me.
David's reply wins my smile. Smiles produce serotonin. More serotonin, less cortisol; change for the better begets more smiles than brow furrowing frowns. We needed this plan, because we can't expect meals to arrive with friends and neighbors, indefinitely.
David is a screen writer
His series season is over
He's waiting to see if the show will be picked up for a fourth season
Along with timing, our youngest son's positive attitude and
Heartfelt generosity are everything …
When I thank David profusely for helping us, he replies:
We help each other, Mom—that's what we do …
As the depth of my gratitude can't be conveyed in words
I hug my son close …
And drugged or not, I'm more determined than ever to
Get to the bottom of this baggage and pull my load …
Thank goodness, Will continues to improve, daily—with this exception
After being home for a week, the catheter hose
Has become exceptionally irritating at its place of insertion …
As both of us are in need of releasing stress
We actually laugh with comic relief when
The catheter bag springs a leak ...
Guess springing a leak is not unusual, because
Will had been sent home from the hospital 22 hours after
His five hour cancer surgery—with a spare …
No comments:
Post a Comment