Something’s Amiss! Some Medications are Missing!

My medications are goofy. Many times the color of the pills change due to SoSec wanting cheaper generic drugs. I will give the pharmacy staff this, though: I would never be organized with regards to these Med-Packs helping me know what I need to take.

I was studying my medications after breakfast and my Trazodone is in my noon dose and there aren’t any Lithium in my noon dose as well. I called my father and he said to drive down to the pharmacy and he would check them out.

“Your Lithium is missing and your Trazodone should be taken at night,” he told me. “Everybody bowls a gutter ball sometimes!”

Dad gave me a correct Med-Pack which I had to wait a few moments for and got the girts started in making new Med-Packs right away. 

Comment Replies…

glittermom said...

Is the trazodone replacing another med. or added to your current meds? Do you suffer from depression? That seems to be what it’s prescribed for.

Andrew Replies…

Glittermom, I was having lots of anxiety and restlessness at night. I called it the stir crazies. My doctor said Trazodone also helped with anxiety and could help me with rest so we tried it. It just makes me really sleepy at the moment. It was added to my current meds. I take it about an hour before I am ready to go to sleep.

Med-Packs Via an Unreliable Courier…

I took my last dosage of medications yesterday evening. My med-pack was empty. Dad was supposed to have brought a new med-pack home from the pharmacy yesterday.

“I forgot to bring home your med-pack,” my father said sheepishly over the phone this morning.

“You, of all people, should be able to remember my medications you are so keen on them,” I told my father.

“I will get them to you this afternoon,” he told me.

“Call the pharmacy and tell them I am on my way to pick them up,” I told my father.

The thought of going that long after my prescribed time sent feelings of anxiety reeling within me. I took a shower and headed to the pharmacy a little before lunch. I came home and took my nine noon pills as soon as I walked into the door of my house. I know it is psychosomatic, but I immediately felt better – my anxiety melting away.

Inner Peace…

I feel at peace tonight – not the always inward conflict I feel on a normal basis. I am very thankful for all the many good things in my life right now. I’ve come a very long way from that drunkard homeless man back in 2003. I will never forget the night my mother turned on the heat in my deceased grandmother’s house – wonderful, glorious heat. I had called her and told her I was homeless. I had a warm bed to sleep in that night and was so very, very thankful. I had been sleeping in a tent by a pond on some land we owned. The month was December as it is now.

“I don’t care what your daddy says you’re not sleeping in a tent tonight,” my mother told me over the phone. “It is freezing cold outside!”

That was the spark that lit the fire that got me moving towards recovery, stability, and sobriety. I finally had stable housing living in an apartment under my grandmother’s house. It took a few years, but I finally got sobered up as well and started to take my medications. The medications were useless while I was drinking. The medications are the key to my recovery. My father always likes to say that I am a different person on my medications than I was before. He said the same of my mother as well. My mother was a mean, stern, chaotic, and obstinate woman growing up and she turned into this gentle and kind creature when she started to take Zyprexa for her schizophrenia.  I actually got to be friends with my mother in the last few years before her death. We were no longer at odds with each other. 

Me and My Crazy Meds…

A Double Edged Sword…

These new anxiety meds are kicking my ass to put it bluntly. Yes, they have helped with the anxiety immensely, but I am too sleepy all the time to enjoy it.

I got home from volunteering yesterday, took my noon dose, and laid down for a nap and didn’t wake up until 7pm. I then took my nightly dose and fell back asleep and didn’t wake up until noon today. I am tempted to try and not take them today and see what happens. I don’t want to sleep away my life. I am just scared of the anxiety monster.

“Give them time,” Old Fuss and Feathers warily and gently said over the phone a moment ago. “You will probably get over the initial sleepiness.”

“I’ll try,” I said not very hopeful.  

I dare say I hope so. If I take my noon dose, I bet I will sleep until late in the evening. This happens with a lot of psychiatric medications. The side effects can be worse than what you are trying to cure.

October 19 Tablet Scribblings…

Well, dad called our doctor and he put me on a new anxiety medication. The Klonopin just wasn’t doing the trick. I have to take it three times a day. I am going to pick up the pills on my way back from the Humane Society today as the prescription is filled and ready to go.

“Maybe this will give you some peace,” my father told me of my tortured soul.

I am excited to try them and to see if they help. I think I am the only person on Earth thrilled at getting even more crazy meds.

I was stir crazy late in the evening last night and visited with my father to calm down. I called it grounding myself. He cooked us breakfast for supper and it was such a treat. I adore and love breakfast for supper. We had scrambled eggs, bacon, and heat and serve biscuits.

Tracey got the wildcat to eat out of her hand and she was thrilled today. Normally, he would hiss and cower in the back of his cage. This cat is going to take some serious rehabilitation if it is going to be adopted. Tracy is up to the task, though. She oozes with sweetness and trustworthiness,

Little Man got back from the Vet this morning as well and he looks like a new dog without that hideous tumor on his loin. The tumor was benign. I peeled back the bandages and he has quite a few stiches. I have a mind to adopt this dog if Old Fuss and Feathers wouldn’t have a hissy fit. I might just do it anyway come hell or high water.

Life’s Little Victories…

My father really was orchestral in getting all this done. To him goes the glory. I just called him and thanked him for all his efforts today and the previous days beforehand.

Last night, I arrived home from grocery shopping to find Charlie parked out in front of my house. He has a key and had let himself inside. He was busy cleaning house – vacuuming the rug in my computer room. He stopped and helped me unload my groceries as my father then arrived.

“What are you doing here?” I asked Charlie inquisitively as he was then cleaning my bathroom sink. “I know you didn’t just come to clean.”

I was very glad to see him and so was the Magster. Thrilled would be a better term for the Magster.

“I am going to cut your hair again so you look good for the doctor,” Charlie said.

This was no doubt my father’s machinations. Old Fuss and Feathers parked himself on the couch with Maggie as Forensic Files droned on while Charlie cut and washed my hair. He gave me quite a nice haircut I might add. Old Fuss and Feathers said I looked like a new man. The deep shampoo and scalp massage was luxurious.

They soon left and Maggie and I settled down for the night. In the morning was my doctor’s appointment and I was as ready as I ever was going to be. Dad picked me up at 9:20am the next day and we headed down the interstate for a 10am appointment.

“I’m increasing your Risperdal 1 and half milligrams,” the doctor told me when I described the problems I had earlier in the week. “I will see you back in two weeks and let’s see how you are doing.”

So that makes 3 milligrams a day I am taking now on top of the 50mg I am getting with my long lasting injection every two weeks. My math is terrible, but I think that works out to be over 6mg a day. I thanked the doctor and dad and I left feeling something positive happened. Dad was worried he was going to take me off Risperdal and put me on another antipsychotic and all the teething pains that would result. Much of psychiatry is trial and error. In the beginning of my mental problems, I probably went through six drugs before they found one that worked.

Now, it was time for my and Maggie’s treat. We stopped at Hardee’s for sausage biscuits and steak biscuits. The biscuits are really stupendous at Hardee’s. Dad and I parked and ate our biscuits and I saved one for Maggie who relished it once I arrived home. It was still good and warm. She really was one happy dog. She hadn’t had a steak biscuit from Hardee’s in six months and neither had I.

Blood Makes Noise…

I could hear my blood ringing and rushing around my ears on the drive to my appointment in Opelika. Is it perceived or real? I do not know. I know it happens when I get under a lot of stress.

We signed in and had to fill out countless medical forms and the receptionist needed my ID and insurance information and cards. Just then, Dr. Edwards, my former psychiatrist, walked by with a cup of delicious smelling coffee in his hands.

“Dr. Edwards!” I exclaimed. “Are you still my psychiatrist?”

“Y’all are next after one more appointment,” he told me.

I was elated and let it be known. He smiled and probably thought, “Yes, this one needs to be medicated”. My father was thrilled as well and shook his fists in the air in a celebratory fashion.

He refilled my prescriptions and we don’t have to come back for 6 months.

Dad and I moseyed on over to Hardee’s and got two steak biscuits and one sausage biscuit – always a pleasure on such trips to the doctor.

Medication Checkpoint...

The phone rang this morning just as Maggie was barking her fool head off in the den window. It was my father and it was very early for him to call. Usually, this time of day he is in zombieville. He is a very late sleeper. I am early to bed and an early riser. Dad likes to stay up to 1 AM.

"What's Maggie barking at?" my father inquisitively asked as I moved to the back part of the house to escape the noise.

"A cat ran across the yard," I replied. "You know her and cats."

Papa laughed and said, "You get 'em, girl! You get those pussies!"

"I am going to cook us some lunch at noon and I want you to bring your medications when you come," my father told me. "I am going to make some BLTs."

"Why?" I asked warily. "Is something wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong, Martha," my father replied with a laugh. "I just want to keep you on your toes. Don't you usually take your first dose at noon?"

I answered yes and told him I would be over at noon with medications in hand.

"We are going to get back on track and buy your groceries tonight around 8:30 as well," my father then told me. "And don't you try to back out of it."

8:30 is a terrible time for me, but I didn't complain. I am usually in the bed around 8:30 to 9:00 PM these days. I am going to be buying groceries in a sleepy and muddled haze tonight.

I am crazily craving Nutter Butter cookies this morning. I like to open the package and set them out overnight and they get soft. I then put them all in a big Ziploc bag. They are delectable with a cold glass of milk.

Does the Early Bird Actually Get the Worm?

I was in the bed at 6 PM and deeply asleep within minutes. I couldn't stay up any longer. It was like a time warp when my father knocked on the door at 8:30 PM with Cokes and smokes. It was his first full day of work in over two weeks. He is still congested and coughing, though.

"You are out of it," Old Fuss and Feathers said very worriedly, "Have you been taking something?"

I laughed half-heartedly in complete dismay.

"You always expect the worse out of me!" I told my father scoldingly. "I was just in a very deep sleep when you knocked on the door."

Dad said I was acting drunkenly.

Maggie came ambling into the den and collapsed on my hardwood floor with a grunt and a sigh. Usually, she is going gangbusters at my father's arrival. She was muted last night in her demeanor and response.

"Even Maggie's been taking something!" my father exclaimed with laughter.

Maggie was deep asleep as well relishing the time with me in the bed I explained.

My father wanted to see my medications and smell my breath. He said it would give him peace of mind. I took my nightly dose of two 1 mg Klonopin and a Coreg before I retired to the bed. Nothing was amiss. My father was afraid I had taken a bunch of my Klonopin which would have given a similar response. This kind of scrutiny gets old sometimes. I am 45 years of age.

Did I Hear Thunder?

The first thing I did when I woke up this morning was to check the weather. Yes, we have a vigorous line of storms moving in. If you have read me any length of time, then you know how much this excites me.  They should roll through about 9 AM and then it is supposed to rain the rest of the day.

A Vignette in Darkness...

fine examples of Egyptian mummified cats

I arrived at my father's house late yesterday evening and the back door was open. "Well, this is inviting," I thought to myself. I made my way through the kitchen and my father was in the den sitting in his chair with his pajamas on.

"Why do you have it so dark in here?" I asked him intrigued.

I was also intrigued that his omnipresent television wasn't on.

"Shhh," my father replied softly. "My pussy is asleep on my lap."

A big grin formed on my face and I chuckled softly as I commandeered the recliner next to my father's.

I had to bring my medications which my father studied them to make sure I hadn't missed any dosages and that I am taking them as prescribed.

"I take the morning dosage at around 8 PM to 9 PM and the main dosage at midnight," I told him and he grumbled a little bit.

Yes, I am an animal, too!

I am still stuck in a nocturnal existence

"I never thought you could do it, but you seem to be handling your medications responsibly," he told me.

"I don't want to be crazy," I told my father sincerely, "My life falls into disarray without some help."

Speaking of cats, dad and I spoke for awhile about Egyptian dignitaries who would be entombed with their mummified cats. I had read an article about it in Archeology Today along with a fascinating article on whale fossils and their evolution.

I stood up to leave as it was now twilight outside and I dreaded driving home in the dark.

"Love you," my father said. "And don't forget your Cokes and smokes on the kitchen counter."

A Cut Above...

Charlie gave me his best haircut yet tonight. I feel and look like a brand new man. Charlie then shampooed my hair and that is so luxurious to me. He massaged my scalp thoroughly. That means I don't have to hide my head and hair under the multitudes of baseball caps I own for awhile. At least for a couple of months in time for another haircut.

"I wish I still had hair," Charlie said wistfully with a chuckle. "You have pretty hair Andrew."

Dad sat on the couch with Maggie watching Forensic Files as Charlie snipped away (he couldn't figure out how to change the channels). They left and were soon back with Little Caesar's pizza for our usual Sunday night meal. Pizza was my request tonight as KFC has just gotten plain old. Charlie got me the chicken strip fill-up meal last week and I just fed them to Maggie -- my canine food disposal unit. I ate the mashed potatoes and gravy and my cookie.

Medications First...

To Skinny Minny and Glittermom, I have to be very careful about my medications and to not take their importance lightly. I goofed and ended up taking my noon dose about 6 PM the other day after sleeping the day away. That's not good and I am going to start taking them on a nighttime schedule until I cycle back to a diurnal existence. I am going to take my usual noon dosage at midnight tonight which will be in about 30 minutes. I probably need one of these devices that will alarm me to take my crazy meds at the correct time. I better not play too fast and loose with my medications or my father will take control of them again.

Eat Up For Tomorrow May Never Come...

Last night, Old Fuss and Feathers cooked supper and it was delicious. We had roast beef hash and a fresh pan of cornbread. One way I relish eating cornbread is with a large glass of milk to wash it all down with. That is just so delicious to me.

"You have your mother's ability and flair for cooking," I told my father last night with much sincerity.

Dad is only human and eats up such accolades. My grandmother was a most wonderful cook of the highest order.

"Was it good?" my father asked fishing for another compliment.

"It was delicious," I replied.

Still On For the Piggly Wiggly...

I am steadfastly resolved to do my grocery shopping at the Piggly Wiggly tomorrow night. Dad reaffirmed my resolve tonight saying it is up to me. He is going to meet me there at 9 PM which is around 9:30 PM Old Fuss and Feather time. I should be finished shopping by the time he arrives. The first thing that is going into my grocery cart is a big can of Poss' brunswick stew. You can't get that at Kroger.

It's Eating Old Fuss and Feathers Alive...

I called dad this afternoon wanting cigarette lighters. My last lighter had bitten the dust. I was lighting my cigarettes on my stove.

"I've got about twenty," my father said. "They give me two free lighters when I buy your cartons of cigarettes."

I sighed with relief. Thank you Circle K for being so generous.

"Bring your medication blister pack when you come," dad said. "I want to make sure you're taking your medications as prescribed."

Dad was worried I was taking out the Klonopin from other days to get a mellow "high". I have been super hyper vigilant and careful to take my medications as I am supposed to. These random spot checks keep me on my toes which I am sure dad intended.

Dad met me at the back door of his house when I pulled into the driveway. Samantha also went flying inside all wet and damp and parked herself in front of dad's space heater in the den and began giving herself a bath.

"You seem to be taking them like you are supposed to," dad said. "You are not throwing them out, are you?"

"Dad, you would see a marked deviation in my behavior if I weren't taking my medications," I told him.

My father agreed with me and told me to always come to him if I needed help in taking them. I told him not to worry and that things are fine.

Minds Wracked With Anguish and Fear...

The fickle winds of mental illness are blowing harshly today. I felt so well yesterday and I feel like something the cat covered up in the litterbox today. I just took my noon medications with a tasty, coy, and bubbly diet Coke so I will find out in an hour if I am feeling better. The Magster and I slept so well last night. Maggie is still in the bed snoozing at this later hour in the day. It doesn't help that it is cold, rainy, and gloomy outside. I feel like a do when I have one of my depressive periods.

As If By Magic...

The medications did the trick. I feel as right as rain now. An hour passed and then suddenly I felt as if I were going to melt into this computer chair. What would I do without modern psychiatry, benzodiazepenes, and atypical antipsychotics?

As I felt better and better, I drove over to my father's house to get my diet Cokes and cigarettes for the day. I was surprised when Charlie was over there and wasn't at work. He had just had a tooth pulled and wasn't feeling well. I know my father was getting on his nerves -- all happy, cheerful, and joking. Papa was feeling his oats today.

"I am going to call you at 9 pm so you can go ahead and get started shopping at Kroger," my father told me. "I will meet you up there."

"I will probably be finished shopping by the time you arrive," I told my father bragging on the convenience of shopping with yours truly.

I had almost forgotten it was grocery day. I have a mind to make my spaghetti and meat sauce tomorrow and I want to make tuna salad. I also want to get lots of breakfast foods.Maggie and I had to contend with fried beef bologna and toasted honey wheat bread this morning.

Ode to a Klonopin...

I am sitting here waiting for my diet Cokes to get cold in the freezer when my nighttime medications hit me suddenly. I felt as if I was going to melt into this computer chair. Such a soothing and calming feeling readying me for bed.

Papa just has left and he was a sourpuss tonight -- all grouchy and full of news and conversations I didn't want to hear. I was excitedly telling him of my New Year's resolutions -- very modest of course. He didn't act excited and it hurt my feelings. He huffily stood up and left after telling Mags goodnight.

"Don't lollygag around and miss the WOW! people tomorrow," were his grumpy last words to me as I loudly shut the door and said good riddance.

A Worried Papas...

Dad just called. There was a little henpecking going on and a change in my medications. He had me bring my medications over yesterday so he could look at them.

"Did you take your noon meds?" he asked me.

He feels so out of control and it is driving him crazy leaving me exasperated.

"Yes, I did," I replied. "I told you I am not going to let myself or you down."

"Those three lithium in the noon dose need to be taken one at breakfast, one at lunch, and one at supper," my father told me. "I don't know why they are putting them all at noon."

"Charlie and I will be there tonight with your supper and I want to see you take your nightly dose," my father then furthered.

One of my most helpful medications I take lately is the Coreg. It is a beta blocker and it soothes my heart and lessens my anxiety. It also lowers my blood pressure making for a mild mannered Andrew.

Someone Please Save this Poor Wretched Soul...

It happened again. I need my medications mid-afternoon instead of late in the evening when they are normally brought. I realize I am completely addicted to these psychiatric medications for my well being. Sometimes they leave my bloodstream faster than other days. I have that feeling of uneasiness like I am about to have an anxiety attack. It is a miserable, wretched feeling.

Well, I just called my father to ask if I can come and take my medications.

"I'm having trouble with the BMW and I'm at the dealership in Columbus," he told me sounding solemn.

It felt like someone stuck a dagger in my heart -- like a bolt of electricity surging through me.

"I will call you when I get home," he told me. "And you can come and take them."

That could be hours from now. My head is hung low in defeat.

The Tumble of All Tumbles...

I leaned back in my computer chair tonight as I often do and just completely busted my ass as I fell to the floor. The chair had given way. Speakers went flying. Wires were yanked out of their sockets. My computer immediately died.  Maggie started to bark at the loud noises my tumble made. All I could think was that I hoped my computer was okay. I feared the plug getting torn from the socket of my surround speakers had ruined the sound card and subsequently the motherboard of the computer.

Maggie, bless her dear little affectionate soul, came into the computer room seeing me needing aid and she lay next to me until I felt I could get up and fix this mess I made for myself. I lay on the floor for about 10 minutes. I like to say that about the affectuousness of Maggie, but she could've just thought it was nap time.

It almost unplugged my computer in my tumble so I put the plug back in and it whirred to life. I sighed with relief. Somehow, I don't think I could wrangle a new computer out of my father. I would have to use one of my other two computers. I also sighed thankfully that my expensive Sound Blaster Z sound card was fine and working.

Shall We Partake of the Crazy Med?

"You know your injection is in the morning," my father told me handing me the shot already filled and ready to go. "I have a pharmacy seminar I have to attend down in Auburn so I am trusting you to take care of business."

"Don't worry. I won't let you down," I replied. "I will be at Kamath Medical at nine."

"Just give me the next appointment card tomorrow night," my father told me.

As my father was handing me my medication, a pill dropped to the floor. I got out my flashlight and got on the floor to find it. It was an errant risperidone tablet.

Moments later, Dad was holding my hand and caressing it. I was a nice moment of affection on his part.

"They would say we are incestuous on Facebook," dad said chuckling.

Stiff Upper Lip As the Brits Say...

One problem after another has been the name of the game that is my life these days. I have been beseeched with bad luck is seems. This morning I walked out and my car wouldn't crank. The battery was dead due to the brake lights being stuck on. I called Papa and he drove over here within the hour and got me back on the road. I carefully checked to make sure my brake lights were off before walking inside. I did take a nice long and leisurely country road excursion out Spring road to make sure the battery charged back up.

"You've basically got the shit knocked out of you this weekend, son," my father told me as we stood out in this Southern heat trying to get my car to crank.

Troublesome Neurons...

I hate to complain as it does no good, but I have had a terrible time with my mental illness the past few days. I felt as if I were about to jump out of my skin yesterday and today which makes sleep troublesome and it compounds the problem.

"I've got your medications if you want to take them," my father said earlier before leaving.

"Let's get back to our usual schedule of taking them at night," I told my father and he agreed.

"You've got a good head on your shoulders today," he said showering me with praise.

There has to be a certain simple order to my life or my life seemingly spirals out of control as it has the past few days.

My Crew is Ready to Roll...

"Hey Jon, Jon," Tuleana said upon my answering the phone this morning. "What time are we going tomorrow?"

"I'll be by with breakfast between 9:30 AM and 10:30 AM," I told her. "Then we will head to Wal-Mart after y'all eat."