Rash

Leaves broke out with "fall rash"
Originally uploaded by Ctd 2005

I have a rash. I also have that virus which is going around. Viruses can bring on rashes. Lamictal, which is the medication I take to stabilize my mood swings, can bring on a rash as well. I did not know before taking Lamictal that any rash could be life-threatening, but the Lamictal rash, which is Stevens-Johnson syndrome, is such a rash. The standard advisement is to contact one's doctor immediately if a rash appears.

I called my psychiatrist's office when I got up this morning. I could hardly speak because of the phlegm in my throat, from the flu, but I asked for an appointment as soon as possible. I was connected to another receptionist, with whom--between fits of coughing and considerable clearing of my throat-- I left a message on a machine.

Now, after several hours, I have yet to hear back. Left hanging, I feel foolish, realizing that this may all be a false alarm. On the other hand, my vision has gotten increasingly blurred over the past months, which is also a Lamictal side-effect. It would be nice to be able to see what I am writing again. I think that I don't want to be on Lamictal any more.

I feel like all of this is too much for me to handle. I am depressed and crying again, and just when I was beginning to feel some normalcy coming back into my life.

(For those who are searching for information on the Lamictal rash, there are pictures on Google Images, which are like the rash I am experiencing. My daughter, however, was on Lamictal and developed a different sort of rash, which manifested as purple blotches on the underside of her chin. It appeared shortly after she began taking the Lamictal, and disappeared as soon as she stopped taking it with a switch to Depakote. Our psychiatrist says that the rash can appear at any time and in a variety of forms.)

Update: Having just re-read this post, I can see why my mom panicked and counseled me via email to go immediately to the ER. What I did not make clear was that what I was experiencing was just the faint beginnings of what looked like it could be the Lamictal rash. The photographs online are quite graphic and definitely scary looking. I just have a few-- 12 or 15-- pink and red spots.

It is now nine p.m. I never did hear back from the psychiatrist's office. I suspect that, despite my efforts to speak clearly on the message I left, the words came out garbled on the other end and no one could tell who called. Anyway, after taking an Ativan for my mounting anxiety, and spending the afternoon hacking and sneezing, but not dying, I'm not worried much about the rash at this point. I will just keep an eye on it. It will probably leave with the flu virus.

(Sorry, Mom.)

A thank you to Ctd 2005 for sharing this photograph on flickr.

Weight Gain and Meds

I found this article, "Preventing and Reversing Weight Gain Associated with Psychiatric Medications," helpful. Perhaps you will, too.

(Found today at Bipolar Beat.)

Pills Anonymous

White-eared Sibia picking Idesia polycarpa.(白耳倒吃山桐子)
Originally uploaded by John&Fish

You may have noticed that I do not post much about the specific medications I am taking. This is not because I feel any shame about your knowing. I do not tell you what I am taking because I do not want you to think that what is working (or not) for me will also work (or not) for you. Medications respond in different ways for different people. You and your doctor will have to decide what is best for you, for your particular chemistry.

It is kind of heartening, knowing that we are very distinct individuals, right down to our most minute wiring. There is nobody else just like me. There is nobody else just like you.

And yet, we have so much to share with one another.

Mania and Anti-depressants

I am on my third anti-depressant this year and I am feeling much better. However, on this one I was beginning to exhibit signs of mania--in my case hypomania--which is a too-common side-effect of anti-depressants in bipolar patients. For me, hypomania presents itself with bouts of insomnia, an insatiable desire to spend money, and other unpleasantness. It was scary to experience these again, since I had been doing well in that area for many months. On my next visit to him, my psychiatrist upped my dosage of mood-stabilizer in the hopes that it would be a shield to the anti-depressant's ill effects. So far, so good. (I hate being hypomanic even more than being depressed. I fear all the time that it will worsen and my behavior will hurt those I love.)

There is a great article about the need for mood-stabilizers when anti-depressants are prescribed for bipolar patients today at Bipolar Beat. Click on the link if you would like to read more on this subject.

(Thank you to this photographer for the picture.)

Succor

I was taught long ago that the meaning of the word succor is "to run to." Later on, I learned that the root from which our English succor comes means not only that, but "to go beneath, run to help." As I learned this more specific meaning of the term, I immediately appreciated the imagery of being held up from underneath and kept from falling.

I had a tangible experience with being succored in this way some years ago. As part of a group of adults on a wilderness trek, I participated in an activity which resulted in me finding myself in a precarious situation.

The trek in which I was involved was organized as a series of games and activities meant to engender cooperative fellowship and greater self-awareness. The assigned tasks which my group were asked to undertake were approached seriously and performed with exactness. The particular activity which I mentioned above involved transferring each member of the group across a low area of ground which was designated as a pit of fire. We were to imagine that the ground over which we were crossing was molten lava or some equivalent danger, so that we must absolutely not touch down under any circumstances.

At some point in this exercise, a cable was stretched across the dry riverbed which served as our fiery hollow, and I volunteered to made my way across on it and perform the task which was needed on the other side in order to enable my companions to also cross over. I began my mission with enthusiasm, my arms and legs wrapped around the wire, inching along bit by bit. Tiring quickly as I moved along, however, as I neared the midway point of my journey I realized that I was in serious trouble. It was clear to me that I did not have enough strength to move myself all the way across the abyss. Halfway across, suspended in the air, my arms had become so weakened by my previous efforts that it was all I could do to barely hold on. I was utterly incapable of moving forward or backward to save myself.

As the group called out expressions of encouragement to me from their place on the riverbank, I whimpered back, "I can't move anymore. I'm not strong enough. I can't go on." I wrapped my worn out arms and legs as tightly as I could and shut my eyes. My mind was devoid of any possible solution. I felt helpless and alone, with no hope for pulling myself out of the situation.

Suddenly, I felt large hands and strong arms lifting me down from the air. One of the group had plunged into the pit to rescue me. He was a tall man, the largest of the party, who had been so quiet that he was a stranger to me in spite of our many hours together. As he set me down on firm ground, he humbly turned to the cheering crowd on the banks and quietly stated, "Well, I couldn't just let her fall."

I learned that day what it truly means to be succored.

I learned again yesterday about the term. My visit to the psychiatrist two days ago left me discouraged and emotionally drained. His responses to my needs were to do more of the same things I have been doing and then some. I was to switch, once again, my antidepressant. I was to visit one doctor for one problem and another for another, and a third for something else again. I was to apply more time to the process and continue the plodding course I have been so long experiencing.

My depressed state plunged as low as it had ever been. By the time I got home I was overwhelmed and incapable of any further forward movement. Exhausted and spent, I was immobilized and barely holding on, just as when I was out on that cable. Again there seemed to be no way out for me, but this time it was no game. The fiery emotional pit looming under me was real. I longed for someone who could run to me and go beneath me and hold me up and help me out. I needed to be truly succored.

Yesterday, the help came. As I sensed the reality of friends on the banks cheering me on through their prayers in my behalf, I simultaneously experienced family members gathering to offer the succor I craved. Probing conversations ensued, ideas came forth, new hope was aroused. As the day ended, I felt impressed to employ an easily manageable change of focus as I fish for answers to my problems, much like simply moving my nets from one side of my boat to the other (see John 21:3-6).

I believe that the Priesthood Blessing I recently received is taking effect, that the prayers of kind and caring friends are being answered, that family love and inspiration are exerting their power. I feel that stronger arms are carrying me from a precarious place. I know that my Savior is near me and empathizes with my plight. I know that I am being succored.

I have hope again for brimming nets and celebratory times. Thank you to all of you who have contributed to this rescue. I believe that prayers have been heard and answered.

Thank you to this photographer for the picture of the support beam.

"Depression: Out of the Shadows"

I stumbled upon this program on PBS yesterday and I found it to be excellent. Today I have discovered that it is available to watch in segments online. Thank you PBS! Thank you to all of those who care and are reaching out to help. Click here to go to the video page for "Depression: Out of the Shadows". The NAMI article about the program (which is the page from which I got the picture above) is here.

Knowing

"How did Abraham know?" I asked my psychologist, who is quite conversant in the Bible. "How did Abraham know, when everything went against logic, that it was really God speaking to him?" Not surprisingly, my doctor didn't have an answer.

That's a struggle, though, isn't it? We are so often presented with a list of basic things that we need to do to stay close to the Lord. "Don't ever think that you are an exception to the rules." Good counsel, except when you truly become an exception to the rules.

Suppose you are flat on your back in a hospital bed with every bone broken.

Suppose it is your brain that is broken.

I give myself little tests. If I feel that I just can't leave my house to attend meetings, I ask myself, would you leave your house to [insert a delightful activity here]? If I answer "no," then I am pretty sure that I am an "exception to the rule" and not just making excuses.

I think that these sorts of quandaries are what prompted me to recently post this excerpt from The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe at my other blog. I have to trust myself, logically, like Lucy's siblings learned the logic of trusting her.

From Doctrine and Covenants Section 6:14:
Verily, verily, I say unto thee, blessed art thou for what thou hast done; for thou hast inquired of me, and behold, as often as thou hast inquired thou hast received instruction of my Spirit. If it had not been so, thou would not have come to the place where thou art at this time.

I remind myself often that the Spirit has brought me this far. I have to trust that it is that same Spirit which is directing me now.

Migraines Again

After a year's respite, migraines have returned. I am glad that I have an appointment with my psychiatrist in a week. Hopefully, he will have some good ideas for fighting them.

To Begin: The Last Couple of Days

Wednesday I traveled with daughter K to visit our chiropractor. This we do every two weeks, and I enjoy it. It is one thing for which I will leave my house, albeit not alone. On the way there, we discussed the possibility of me dropping my daughter off at a friend's house, and then driving home by myself. The anticipation of this caused me such fear that I began to cry, and was doing so when the doctor entered our room. He was very kind and we all talked things over, and K made different arrangements.

My eldest daughter E was also disappointed by my meltdown, as she is alone in her little apartment with a new baby, and was looking forward to my company that day, too. But she understands, as does K, and they are kind to me about it all.

It is sad to disappoint the people I love.

Yesterday, Thursday, E brought the baby out to my house so that she and her husband could go out for a few hours and I could hold that little baby all that I liked. They returned and stayed for a while and I just held him and held him. Baby Ethan loved being held, and I loved holding him, and E loved having a break. So sometimes, I make the lives of loved ones better, too.

Babies are great healers. When I am holding my little grandson I feel peace.