I have had some rough days in between and a few attacks, but not like before. The worst, most recently, was the morning we went to meet our new doctor. I didn't slept the whole night, I was so nervous. Xanax didn't even make a dent and I didn't take another all night because I didn't want to be groggy when we met her. I was rushing around, trying to get ready, voicing my fears when Rog told me to take another one. I think he thought we might not make it out the door, I was so anxious. Part of it was because of the weather. We'd had several inches of snow, which is very unusual for here, and the roads were still packed with ice. We'd also had record-breaking lows of 10 below. We had to go in his big pickup truck, plus our driveway was packed with snow-ice. I fell on ice once and broke open the back of my head, so I do NOT like walking on it. Wearing my Birkenstocks with Rog carrying my oxygen bag, we crept out to the truck. Finally, we got to the truck, he opened the door, and set a small plastic step-stool down for me; otherwise I couldn't get in...my 5'2" just won't reach. I was even afraid to step up on the stool, it was so icy. By then, I was sure we were going to be late. With Roger's help, I managed to get in and settled. As it was, we walked in the door right at 8a, our appt. time!
After filling out papers to have our records transferred (YES! No more bully doc for us!), they took us in a room to take our vitals, then told us the doc was late as her kids' school bus wouldn't start and she had to wait with them until another came. We didn't have to wait too long and by the time she came I was settled down from the xanax and relief to just be there.
She is very nice, astute, asked a bunch of good questions and, most importantly, she listened well. When I said something about our old doc, by name, she looked me in the eye and said she'd been a partner of his. I wasn't sure whether to say, "so you know" or ask if that would be a problem. Before I could decide, she said they'd "had their differences" now and then. So I knew she knows what I meant. I told her I put great credence in what a doctor tells me, if I trust them, and everything I hear goes straight to my heart, so I need a doc who will be careful how they phrase things and also one who will give me credit for knowing my own body. I elaborated a bit on what happened when the bully didn't do so.
We took care of prescriptions, she examined Rog and asked him questions, too, then told him he didn't need to come back for six months and I needed to see her in three, as long as we were doing okay. I felt so relieved and we were both impressed and pleased. After waiting so long to do something about getting a new doc, then going through with it made me feel so good.
One of the main ways I know the meds are helping is I have noticed a BIG difference in Roger. What it must've been like for him all this time, living with me being depressed and not even knowing it...just being crabby, etc., well, yes and genuinely ill, at times. Anyway, I feel I am getting my husband back. He had withdrawn and spent much time on his computer, still does, but now we talk, really talk and laugh and discuss and enjoy one another's company, again. I am not whining to him the minute he walks through the door, begging him to rub my shoulders, feed me, and/or talk to me. That one always gets him. He'll say "what do you want to talk about?" I'd say, "Anything, just talk!" Well, a girlfriend will understand...we just think differently. I do know, though, that a part of his frustration was
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