Sunday, June 19, 2011

House Arrest

One day to do the laundry. One day to shower. One day to twist my hair. And then, on the fourth day, she went to Target.

Afterwards, my sister called me but I couldn't talk. Somewhere between the beginning of a sentence and the end, I'd get lost. Even short sentences that only contained two or three ideas. I promised to call her back later with more coherent thoughts.

At my neurology appointment, I tried to convey all that had gone wrong since January, a time when I still had the wherewithal to think about things like painting my room and rehabbing the dresser I'd bought at the Salvation Army. When I'd still had ambitious thoughts like "moving out."

At my appointment, I felt terrible having been upright for so long. My heart had that squiggly feeling it gets around 115 mark. I couldn't shake the feeling that my neuro was more enamored with his new pet theory of EDS as mitochondrial disease to notice the fact that I had gone downhill fast in a matter of months despite having done everything asked and remaining physically active.

The neuro wanted me to try antidepressants but I don't want to. Not because I think he's implying that my problems are all in my head, but because they make me crazy and always have. Worse yet, it's never an immediate reaction. It's slow, as the drug builds up in my system. At first things seem a little brighter, outlines sharper. They hold my attention longer and seem significant in ways I can't explain. And then I start seeing things that aren't there.

I have no desire to add these kind of symptoms to the ones I'm currently feeling. Especially when people tend to throw more psych drugs into the mix rather than withdrawing the offending one and that just makes things worse.

I'll tell you all about my sensitivity to antidepressants and how I learned about it someday when I'm feeling jollier.

So, I'm not taking them. Period. The bad thing is no alternative were presented, so I went home feeling a little defeated, hoping that if nothing got worse I might figure out how to manage in this state.

And then, even in two weeks, things got worse. I've always had trouble with brain fog, but I've never not been able to talk. The most I can manage driving is 30 minutes, maybe 45 and I wouldn't feel comfortable pushing it beyond that. Even then, my reaction times are slower, so I try to keep to the city streets.

In a city that sprawls as much as Cleveland it's a nightmare. Long days spent at home, trapped in the house by the heat make me crazy. I hate stupid tv (although I do have my pet shows) so I read news instead, but then that gets too upsetting. I want to at least pace away my irritation but I'm too exhausted, too light-headed. I'm so weak, the house seems huge. I feel like I'm under house arrest. All I need is one of those ankle monitors.

4 comments:

Em said...

trapped in a prison, your mind and your house. thats what it feels like with this disease. hope your ok. x

Yvette said...

Exactly Em, and I'm not sure how much smaller the prison can get. I hope you're okay as well.

brilliantmindbrokenbody said...

I am SO sorry that things have been so rough for you. I can imagine, things haven't been great here either. Summer often traps me in my bedroom because even the big powerful A/C we have downstairs can't really manage to cool the room when it's roasting outside, partly because the damn house is open-plan, and even with curtains hung to close it off, I can only improve it so much.

I hope things get back under control for you soon, though I know going into July that's a faint hope. But still, I hope for you. And for me.

(BTW, if you can, it might be good to get rid of your word verification captcha-like thing. For people who have vision impairments, those things are damn near impossible, especially for people who have vision + auditory issues so they can't do it even if it reads itself aloud. Just if you want your blog more accessible and all.)

~Kali

Yvette said...

I think I'm the only person in the area clamoring for fall and winter. I'm thinking I don't even care if it's the longest, grossest winter ever, just bring it on! I hate how little heat it takes to make me sick, even a few minutes of direct, hot sunshine will do it.

I really appreciate your letting me know about the captcha thing. I think I've gotten rid of it.

Thanks for the well-wishes; I'll hope for us too. Feel better soon!