That was weird

I had glimpses of anxiety during the evening, but managed well.

Then bedtime arrived, and I became more anxious. What if something weird happens with the Ativan?

I took it — read for a while (fifteen minutes? thirty?), turned out the light and rolled over. Anxiety blipped and murmured. I cried a little. I got up and cried a lot. Apparently the Ativan hadn’t worked.

Through journal, computer, hotline, nurse line, doctor-on-call distraction and help efforts, the anxiety escalated into full panic, with severe rage and hopelessness at the same time. The fact that nothing at all helped kept making things worse. I wondered about taking another half milligram, which is why I called the nurse line (yes, it matches possible serious side effects — call your doctor) and then the doctor (first dose, low dose, unlikely it’s a side effect; probably you are just reacting to the fact that it didn’t work to put you to sleep). Finally the doctor on call said that if these symptoms did not wear off in an hour or two, I should go to the ER to be treated.

I tried to wait an hour but was not able to. So I woke up Mark and we discussed (remarkably calmly, thank you Lord) the options and decided I was safe enough to drive myself in. So I did. I didn’t wait terribly long. No one was very helpful (what did I expect, magic?) but they were all relatively nice. They suggested I go home and try another dose of Ativan tonight, but they also gave me a prescription for Ambien.

I am a little afraid of sleep meds, because of, um, interesting side effects I’ve known some people to experience. But I decided I should fill the prescription just in case I needed it. I hadn’t thought there were any 24-hr pharmacies in town, but the ER paperwork had a list. I started out, first one, then the next, and they are all closed, even Wal-mart. I return to the ER, and they say, oh, yeah, we know, we need to fix that in the computer. Not much of an apology. They couldn’t fill the prescription for me, but they did give me one night’s dose — except we had to wait for someone from the main part of the hospital to bring it over.

I finally get home, and Mark wakes, and we talk a bit about what happened, and among other things discuss how I need to stop thinking about the psychological and life issues right now — my mind is not in a sufficiently stable state to believe what it has to say about the quality of my life and relationships. I need to trust that, while I do have issues, they can be resolved or at least worked on, without drastic ultimatums or anything like that. That it’s the sickness that is making me feel quite so much that my world has fallen completely apart without hope or help for any future.

Blessed kindness, we slept.

I woke around 8:15. My eyes are very heavy. I feel just a little uncoordinated. Tired, tired, tired.

But otherwise not too bad.

Today’s schedule, if all goes well, includes plain old normal day at home with Amy, playing, doing dishes, making the bed, diaper changes, meals, etc. Then the science department’s picnic late in the afternoon.

I have taken my Zoloft.

I will take another Ativan later, when I am not so very tired but before 4, if I need it, so that I will be able to take one at 10 for bedtime. The doctor on call told me I could double the dose if I needed to, but no more.