Well, whaddayaknow!

Two years (or so) ago we sat on our front porch watching them take down a huge parcel of pine trees across the street.
We watched as they graded the area, started to build, and we wondered what would come to be there.

There was a sign in the front telling us that this would be the new doctor's practise of Dr. Ryan.

From neighbors I heard that he's the kind pf doctor who doesn't take insurance, whatever the hell THAT means.
I never gave it a second though, oh, I wondered if I could go see him once in a while, when I walked by every night with Boo in her stroller, but...

So for the past month or so, I have been feeling the little twitches of an incoming depression.
Been there done that.
First time back in Holland in 1975. When on my way to work, I froze on the sidewalk, and could not enter the streetcar. Scared stiff.
My doctor told me I needed to go out in the meadow for a while and subscribed a two week time-off (yeah, in Holland they do give you two weeks off to rest, with pay!)

The second episode came along when Grandma lived with us. For two years we struggled trying to give her a good home, give her good care, but along with some other marital issues, the day came when I was stricken by these huge anxiety attacks. Couldn't stand in line at the store, couldn't be in places with many people.

It was during a time when I didn't 'work' but did a lot of volunteer work, just to be out of the house. It took me about a year to get over this. Saw a psychologist, my doc put me on Zoloft, which after taking my first dose make me feel like I stuck my fingers in an electrical socket (wrong dose? who knows). So she switched me on Ativan. Instant relief.

But aside from the therapy and the drugs, eventually you need to hoist yourself out of the muck and get on with it. It took my (expensive but very helpful) visits to a naturopath to get me on the road to recovery.

Fast forward to 2009.

This time things were just coming to a head. In a very subtle way.
Every time I was in line in a store or the post office and started to feel weird I would kick myself and tell myself to knock it off, take a few deep breaths and got on.

Last Tuesday evening though, I could not sit still, I felt horrible, couldn't breathe, felt restricted in my chest. I told Wheelie I wasn't feeling well and went to bed.
When he came to bed not long there after I was shaking like a leaf and couldn't move.
I was so tempted to call 911, thinking I was having a heart attack, but knowing damn well that I wasn't.

So he crawled in bed and held me, as best as he could. My teeth were shattering, my hands and legs shaking, and then I had to run to the bathroom (that's probably where the expression Scared shitless comes from). After that things subsided. So I took one of Wheelie's Ambien and went to sleep.

When I told Bugs about this episode (and trying very hard not to sound like I was whining or making excuses,) she said: Why don't you just go to that doctor across the street? I always send "my" people there when they get hurt at work. He doesn't take insurance, he just charges a low fee, and is a very nice guy!

Since I was at my wits end and knew I needed some medicinal help, I walked across the street the next day while Boo was taking a nap, and Wheelie would 'watch' her (my cell number on his speed dial)

I was pleasantly surprised that there were no patients in the waiting room. The receptionist extremely friendly. She had me fill out a basic information form, and told me the visit would cost $50.

The doctor called me in, no white coat, no stethoscope, just a hand shake, and a smile, and a" let's see what we can do for you"

We sat and talked for 45 minutes. Him asking questions about everyone and everyone's situations in the family.
He wrote everything down on his laptop.
Just the fact that he just let me talk, and didn't interrupt me, asked his questions without any prejudice.

Then he took my BP...too high...listened to my heart...was fine.
I never had to take my clothes off and wear one of those ridiculous paper gowns either (and for this I shaved??)

He squared his shoulders and said: Mrs. Town, I am going to help you get to the light at the end of the tunnel! (I said: as long as it isn't an oncoming train)
Made him giggle.

He prescribed a low doze of generic Paxil, and a prescription for Ativan.

And he told me to send Bugs to come and see him.

And made an appointment to see ME again in two weeks. CHeck my BP again and if it's still high he will get some tests ordered (cheap)

If I had gone to Wheelie's clinic (without insurance) I would have had to fork over at least $300,
They would have ordered tons of tests (unnecessary probably) which would have cost me another buncha money.

Anyway, I could just kick myself for not going to see him before.

Who'd have known there was an old fashioned country doc right under my nose!
I mean, the man makes HOUSECALLS!

It was such an amazing and pleasant experience, I felt better already when I left.

He told me things are going to change. My plate is full. Basta!

I don't know when Bugs is planning on seeing him, but I will keep bugging her about it.

In the meantime, both her and PH want to get out of town. Their new area of interest is Tennessee. At least it's not far from here. They are planning on taking a week and going up to Murfreesboro and check things out.

I think that it's finally dawning on her, and sinking in, that life as it is can no longer go on. Not is she wants us sane and healthy.

I hope to God these antidepressants will work. I know the Ativan will, but I only take that if I feel it absolutely necessary.

We are so blessed to have such a sweet grand child to take care of, she is an angel, so easy going and always in a good mood. If she were a problem child (And I know what THAT's like too) I don't think I would have been able to do this for the past two years.

I am not going to fret about the possibility that they WILL move up there and we'll not see our little Boo as often anymore.

So, onward and upward.

Things are seemingly shifting...now all we need is patience....

SGMKJ!