I posted on the 16th about the results of the bloodwork done, and my nearly non-existant testosterone levels. At that appointment, the Doc had suggested 'Androsyn' patches; I'd pushed it aside at the time and filed it. At the time, it seemed to me he was being -awfully- urgent about them, but I had no idea what they'd do and wasn't about to do ANY tinkering with hormone levels until I knew.
Timesplice: Tonight Megan very gently went over the events of the appointment with me. She was there... and heard only an uncertain offer. What I read as him being pushy was apparently only worry over my continued decline in health, and a wish to do SOMETHING to fix it... or at least slow the decay. He offered, I said no, and he shrugged and said 'Ok', and moved on. And I cannot even -begin- to fathom how I misread him so badly.I had a pair of errands to do this evening:
- I had to go to the Saturn dealership here in Glen Burnie to make an appointment to get the driver's seat fixed. The positioning gear was the subject of a recall, and it was good timing considering my fat ass broke the stupid seat about two weeks ago.
- I needed to swing by Megan's doctor's office and pick up a prescription for her. (Amitryptoline, for her migraines)
While waiting in the lobby area, I spotted a pamphlet on the Androderm patch (the 'brand' name of what Doc L had (in my mind) tried to push on me). I snagged one and stuck it in my pocket for later reading, since I'd not thought to do my research on it yet. I signed for Megan's 'script and wobbled back out to the car, where the pamphlet stabbed me in the back. Figured it was as good a time and place as any, so I settled into the car (the seatback is currently being supported by a Compaq EISA 486dx50 wedged behind it) and opened it up.
And locked up. This was -not- a prescription to 'balance' me... it was the equivalent of having Arnold Swarzenager's yearly production of testosterone dumped into my system on a daily basis. And the rage I've kept so carefully bolted down tore its chains from the wall and took control. And declared war on the person who was suddenly viewed as one taking an active role in preventing me from being -me-.
Thoughts of carnage and havoc propelled me to the library; if I was going to engage in battle with a trained and licensed physician, I needed to be properly equipped. Fourty five minutes of fighting with the library's pc system, fighting the desire to burst into tears the entire time (the other point in my mood pendulum; I was ricocheting between Rage and suicidal... and every thought that ended in harming myself fueled the rage higher until it was in full control). Still 'me', but a much darker flavor than any of my current friends have ever seen. No chance of claiming I was 'out of touch'... conscious control doesn't falter, just the filters in perception. I'm still responsible for my own actions.
One very dear person in my life has told me repeatedly that he's cognizant of that different 'me', and that he loves me. It's simply part of who I am, and doesn't change my soul. Owyn, darling, I love you. Thank you.
I packed up my notes and printouts... a children's program was starting and my materials were not generally socially acceptable to five and six year olds. The librarian lady never batted an eye at me; none of the books I'd selected were part of the Maryland Public Library system, so she filled out the papers for an 'Out System Request' for the most recent two and told me I should know in about two weeks if they'll come in. Great.
I shivered all the way home, cold to the core on a ninety degree day. It occured to me that I needed to third-person-perspective myself on this, so I pulled Megan outside. She knew immediately why I was upset, and actually -guessed- the cause... and managed to say -all- the right things to settle me down and chain my personal Lady Death back in her hole.
Timesplice: I found out in the course of this that Megan had already -known- what the Androderm was, and had ruled it out immediately. She was -astounded- that I hadn't caught that. Yeah, I'm brilliant. So damned brilliant I wear velcro tied sneakers because I can't tie a damn bow. I'm filing this under 'more of the same'.So here I sit, rattled at my own reaction. But the books I've requested will enable me to plot a -real- course through the next few months. Also requested are some alternative medicine books relating to weight loss. I need to get my weight down. I /
HAVE/ to quit smoking; smoking plus hormone replacement therapy can be lethal, causing bloodclot problems... another tidbit gleaned today. But I need to know where I'm bound other than the elusive mystical heading of
hormones; I need to know roughly which, what to expect, and how best to prepare.
I've been complacent too long. I have to move forward, or I'm going to die in this little rut I've created by idling here for so long.
But right this second, I need to eat something, so I need to -cook- something. Hopefully that bit of domestic-ness will further soothe my nerves.
I feel .... taut, and fraying.
~Ellie-chan
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