Near-death by lampshade
Well, okay, no, not quite.
I finally got my appointment with the cognative behavioural therapist (the new hip way to say shrink in the UK, apparently), with most of the meeting consisting of covering my previous history. As I actually did see a doctor when I was in Japan, I can claim that my medical records are scattered across three continents. Wahey.
The conclusion was that it's time for me to do the anti-depressant shuffle again. So not thrilled. Was prescribed a mild anti-depressant in addition to my current one, partly as a bridge to the next medication, partly as the mild one also is supposed to help with insomnia. My sleeping has been really bad the past several months, mostly me rolling back and forth trying to get comfortable and waking every couple of hours. Something that would effectively knock me out sounded peachy.
...
I always forget that with a new med, the good effects only come a week after the -bad- side-effects.
This meant that last night, I dealt with my aunt's deciding to go out at 1am whilst being very woozy and dizzy. Fortunately, I found her glasses, thus she could go to bed without fetching the police (have I mentioned that she's gotten much worse?), all without tripping or falling over. Went to bed. Still woke frequently... and topped it with waking to a killer headache that persisted all day. The morning was spent with something that I suspect was as close to a hangover as my non-drinking self may ever get. I did have a tilt-o-whirl moment, knocking over a small bedside lamp, managing to gash my arm on the bloody lampshade of all things whilst trying to catch it as it fell. Nowhere near up tp the butter-knife incident level, and not as bad as the med change I did a few years back, mind you, when I was dog-sitting at an expats home. The meds then made me an insomniac with added dizzy features, and in the middle of the night, I took a tumble down the stairs. I landed on the dogs. Fortunately, they were fine, bemused by it more than anything, and as they broke my fall, I was uninjured as well.
So, er, back to the current time. After whinging about it to my mum, and having her call me a hypochondriac, I went to crazymeds.org to check. Sure enough, first on the list of bad side-effects was headache. Argh.
I'm going to take my second shot of the damn stuff in a bit, and as usual find myself eyeing it like a cobra-wrangler who discovered that instead of the snake-charming flute, I'd accidentally packed bagpipes.
I finally got my appointment with the cognative behavioural therapist (the new hip way to say shrink in the UK, apparently), with most of the meeting consisting of covering my previous history. As I actually did see a doctor when I was in Japan, I can claim that my medical records are scattered across three continents. Wahey.
The conclusion was that it's time for me to do the anti-depressant shuffle again. So not thrilled. Was prescribed a mild anti-depressant in addition to my current one, partly as a bridge to the next medication, partly as the mild one also is supposed to help with insomnia. My sleeping has been really bad the past several months, mostly me rolling back and forth trying to get comfortable and waking every couple of hours. Something that would effectively knock me out sounded peachy.
...
I always forget that with a new med, the good effects only come a week after the -bad- side-effects.
This meant that last night, I dealt with my aunt's deciding to go out at 1am whilst being very woozy and dizzy. Fortunately, I found her glasses, thus she could go to bed without fetching the police (have I mentioned that she's gotten much worse?), all without tripping or falling over. Went to bed. Still woke frequently... and topped it with waking to a killer headache that persisted all day. The morning was spent with something that I suspect was as close to a hangover as my non-drinking self may ever get. I did have a tilt-o-whirl moment, knocking over a small bedside lamp, managing to gash my arm on the bloody lampshade of all things whilst trying to catch it as it fell. Nowhere near up tp the butter-knife incident level, and not as bad as the med change I did a few years back, mind you, when I was dog-sitting at an expats home. The meds then made me an insomniac with added dizzy features, and in the middle of the night, I took a tumble down the stairs. I landed on the dogs. Fortunately, they were fine, bemused by it more than anything, and as they broke my fall, I was uninjured as well.
So, er, back to the current time. After whinging about it to my mum, and having her call me a hypochondriac, I went to crazymeds.org to check. Sure enough, first on the list of bad side-effects was headache. Argh.
I'm going to take my second shot of the damn stuff in a bit, and as usual find myself eyeing it like a cobra-wrangler who discovered that instead of the snake-charming flute, I'd accidentally packed bagpipes.