A New Doctor

I think I probably am the invisible part of our blog. I would rather sit and talk about things, then write them out. But, for the first time, in a long time, I want to write. . .

I had been under the care of the county mental program for the past year or two. Since J has gotten her new job we have been fortunate enough to have "real" health insurance. So...that is where this post comes from.

While trying to "work" with my county pdoc, I was put on a medication that seemed to work okay, but I got tired of what it was doing to me and eventually weened myself off. I had gone to him on my visits and tried to tell him what it was doing to me, but he wasn't interested in talking about it. Over the time of being with the county I had tried various meds along with this one particular one I have recently come off of. None of them seemed to work. Even though I was diligent in trying them out. I must add in here also, that during all of this I was in therapy, which helped me to deal with life.

So....for the past month of so I found myself on no meds....starting to have a clear mind...my appetite calming down....no more tired feeling.....and....paranoid thoughts coming back....insomnia...irritibility, bordering on extreme anger....but, my mind was not tired. I hate being tired. I have been alittle scared to not be on meds, but at the same time I am loving it.
Last week, I found a list of docs on our health plan and randomly picked one--she, of course, was not taking new patients, so I got stuck with another doc in the same office. This whole week I didn't want to go and see him. I thought, "I can do this on my own", "look at me, I am okay right now". I almost cancelled the appt twice. But, Friday came and J and I drove out to see him. He met with us separately. And then together. When I met with him he wanted to know about my childhood, my dreams, basically, my life. He wanted to know about the illness--the feelings, etc. While I talked with him he just wrote things out and really listened to me. He didn't want to know what the other doctors had said--he was making his own assessments.

The prescription pad. . .
The first one he wrote out for me, said this:
"I'm a good person
I'm training my mind to select my thoughts in a
healthy way, so as to be the source of my own
tranquility and self-esteem.
I am pleased with me for this wise choice
of thought"

He said to practice this exercise 60 times a day.

Now, mind you, I have never had a doctor help treat me with this type of exercise. After he wrote that he wrote another for some sleeping meds--so I could start on that part of the illness.
He believes thought process and chemical imbalance contribute--so we are going to work on both. When J came back in the room, I remember the doc saying, "we are a team". Just typing that sentence makes me want to cry because I am grateful I did not cancel my appt. I am grateful I have a partner who is willing to be a part of this team to help maintain this illness. I believe I have, once again, been blessed in finding this doctor--who is listening and willing to help.