Mar. 29th, 2004

urocyon: Grey fox crossing a stream (Default)
Via [livejournal.com profile] ciciaye, a food meme which likely appealed to me more--and led to some verbosity--because I started into it hungry. *g*

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urocyon: Grey fox crossing a stream (Default)
Getting something accomplished this afternoon felt good. Asking Dr. Dubner for the recommended letter and extra prescriptions had totally slipped my mind, but I thought to fax a request to his office today. Wherever the office is now--faxing seemed a good approach, since I couldn't find the notice that came in the mail earlier this month about the practice moving near the end of the month (with St. Albans psych hospital where it was being shut down by Carilion, no wonder). All I remember is that it's somewhere in the least convenient medical office complex around, next to the horribly-placed new "community" hospital (replacing the one smack in the middle of town, seemingly to attract travellers and accident victims off I-81)--and bearing a different and not-so-obvious name. It's now some garbagey thing like "Carilion Behavioral Well-Being", having been completely Borged; a far cry from the rather appealing "Advocacy". No wonder the man decided to retire.

At any rate, I'm glad I got that done, at least. Even with his greatly reduced hours in the office these days, the letter should be ready quickly. I may pick up my records too, just to be safe.

I also started taking St. John's Wort again today. Funny how it can take a person so long to recognise that she's been sliding into depression, no matter how many times this has happened before. Well, I did realise it was happening, to some extent, but suddenly took stock today and was surprised at how far I'd managed to slip and that it was foolish not to take more steps to deal with this. Seasonal stuff aside (and I don't think it's been as much a factor this spring), large changes--even mainly pleasant ones--can play hell with the bipolar. Throw in the anxiety/stress and depression chicken-and-egg factor, and I am rather surprised that I hadn't been keeping more of an eye out.

Yay for St. John's Wort! The effects are more subtle than those of anything the pharmaceutical companies are peddling, and this is a good thing. I'm one of a reasonable proportion who daren't take prescription antidepressants, even with a mood stabiliser, but the St. John's Wort has never bothered me--while providing just enough help unless things have gotten severe. I prefer to use a tincture made by a lady in Floyd, but am too broke until the end of the month* and had decent tablets on hand in the meantime. Maybe I can pick up some tincture Thursday or so.

Had I not noticed that something was amiss earlier, this evening should have provided a good indication. Tim and Debbie and the kids headed down for one of the usual dinner get-togethers, and it wasn't just allergies that made me not feel like going out. Ah well, this should improve reasonably quickly, with any luck.



* Particularly after paying for one of my prescriptions out of pocket, Virginia Premier having decided not to do so yet again for reasons known only to their psychotic software. This time, it was apparently not because they suddenly decided I was a four-year-old boy living in Mouth of Wilson, who certainly didn't need Xanax or BCPs. Grrr.

September 2011

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