Wednesday, December 12, 2007

mortification yet again...

....saw pdoc's rooms-partner for the first of the appointments that he insisted on while he's away this morning. She intimidates me anyway, because she is ethereally gorgeous and obviously intelligent too. Only contact we've had before has been when she's covered weekends during hospitalisations, and hasn't been great. And her really psychotic patient who bombarded me with sms's until I eventually asked doc to get her to lay off or I'd lay charges, which would end patients already stagnant law career in it's tracks. And hearing from staff that she hated birds.

So basically, I was only going because I had to. And then she was just so nice and so kind that I started crying in about two minutes flat and just couldn't stop for the whole appt. I am such a total loser. Strangely enough, she brought up ECT really soon, wanted to know if I'd consider it. There seems to be a whole convergence of totally separate threads...all heading towards ECT. And I'm beginning to think it's the least intrusive/most available of the non-meds alternatives.

The whole TRD-definition starts with two different AD's. Augmentation. Tricyclic. MAOI. More augmentation sometimes. All for 6 weeks without effect. Ha f-ing ha. Just with current pdoc in last 30 months, where he's pushed dosages up to sometimes 15 of the PI-max, and all for at least 6 weeks, we've tried (and I'm almost definitely forgetting some) about 11 SSRI/SNRIs, 7 TCAs, 2 MAOIs, 1 RIMA, augmented with at least 6 mood stabilisers, 4 anti-psychotics, 3 stimulants, about another 6 off-labels, whole bunch of sedatives. Pretty much nothing. Even the damn vet tranquiliser. I don't ask what the S/E profile is anymore, I don't care. Even if it might kill me, the odds are lower than me doing it myself.

At least, I will have something to say next week. Personal trainer dude and I set up a meeting. He's filled with enthusiasm and vision, wants to know if I'm really motivated and committed to becoming a whole new healthy, skinny person. Gave him the 'do I look like I am?' stare and said 'no. I have no motivation and no desire to do this at all. That's why I am willing to pay you the equivalent of many peoples full-time salary to make me do this 4 times a week whether I want to or not.' Then he asks what liquids I take in. 'Vodka and Coke Lite. Or shooters. And coffee.'. Silence plus note-taking. And measurements on fancy kit. I am delirious to know that 3 kg of my enormous mass is bone. Whoopee. I officially qualify as 'big-boned', for what that is worth. First sessions are tomorrow and Friday, with a full schedule to be drawn up from there. Payment in advance.

Silly dude asked if I'd sign a contract, and eyes widened when I said sure, I'd go for 6 months initial, 3 months renewable after that. He doesn't realise that claiming 3 to 6 months from my estate will be easier for him than having to drag me around while I'm still alive.

Happy Christmas pdoc. Doing this one for you...

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