Monday, January 30, 2012

Little Blue Pills

Yeah, I abandoned things for a bit. I just got sidetracked. Imagine, me, getting sidetracked....
That little blue pill... oh, what wonders it can do! It can raise you up, bring you out of the dumps, and show you a life you never thought possible. That little blue pill... it can be a miracle worker. It makes things work.
I was talking about Adderall... what were YOU thinking of?
Yeah, I've got my own "little blue pill" these days. My check-up was on Thursday, and after discussing my migraines (could I maybe get a pill that ISN'T $300 a perscription?), my knees (still with that cornflakes crunch!), my vitamins (still taking them!) and my stomach (nope, no issues), I did it. I broached the subject. I won't lie, I felt like an eight year old boy (only more articulate and less interested in Bakugon) as I confessed to the fog I've existed in for thirty-four years. I'm lucky to have a doctor who really listens, who I feel comfortable with, though, and soon I was giggling over the memories of how utterly and completely DESTROYED my desk was throughout grade school, and how I envied the girls with their perfectly decorated and organized lockers, while mine looked like something from Kandahar High. At the end, he sat on his little rolling chair and faced me. "There are many tests, or questionaires I can give to assess a patient for ADD," he said with a slight smile. "And you essentially just took every one."
Imagine, he said, that you are in a room filled with televisions. Dozens of televisions, all of them turned on. For the average person, life is like being in that room full of televisions, only they're all turned way, way down, almost muted, while they focus on one screen at a time. The background noise is there, but they are able to completely tune it out and focus on what's important. Now, leave the room, and come back in. When you return, every television is turned up as loud as it will go, and you're asked to find the ONE television in the room that is broadcasting a particular episode of Friends. You need to watch it, pay attention to it, despite all of the noise and interfering stimuli. That's the world of a person with ADD. Our minds are constantly open, unable to shut down the rest of the world, taking absolutely everything in... and losing the majority of what we're supposed to be focused in on.
Enter the little blue pills.
Adderall, or rather a generic form of it. 10mg, 2x daily, for one month. I'm to keep track of how I feel, of the changes that are made. I had to practically sign my name in blood for them, initialing and dating alongside the doctor, making sure to make my next appointment in LESS than a month, since I have to have a physical prescription to get more. We'll likely up the dose, he said, if this works. With no real physical test that can be given to nail down a diagnosis, the only thing my doctor could do was perscribe the drugs. If I started to tweak out, then stop. If I didn't tweak, but instead found it possible to carry on a normal conversation, well... there's your diagnosis.
$78. $78 for a month's worth of little blue pills. Twice a day, when I first get up and about six hours later. $78 for the ability to put one foot in front of the other, accomplish the little things that have always gotten lost.

Hey Ho, let’s go J

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