Wednesday, November 18, 2009


I am completely confused.

I had appointment with BabyDoc today, up at the Public Mental Health offices for my region (which lucky for me happens to be on the same road I live). To start off, he was running over half an hour behind, which meant 40 minutes of staring at the bleak surroundings of the waiting room. I'm sure the staff try their best with posters ect and it is very new, neat and clean. And I'm sure that some very important designer came up with the crisp, minimalist interior.... but seriously! Grey floors, grey paints, dark chairs, all encompassed in a purpley-grey building, that looks alike an amoebic representation of a depressive cloud settling on the hill. But anyway, I waited, because I understand that emergencies ect happen.

Then I walk into the tiny windowless airless office with BabyDoc. These offices alone are enough to get my heart racing. We spoke. I told him that I had good days and bad days, and that I was trying to concentrate on sticking to a good routine and reaching out for help within my crisis network when I needed it. I talked to him about the weight gain, and my attempts to lose the weight through diet and exercise. He pretty much told me that I had nothing to worry about, and that BMIs don't really mean that much in the end, and also made the 'incisive' observation that when patients begin to worry about the side effects of their medication, it meant they were starting to get better... which from my personal experience is just bollocks.

I mentioned that anxiety and panic attacks were still an issue, but I didnt really see the point in raising the serepax, because I think you need to find a balance between throwing meds at a problem and coming up with coping strategies. I told him my sleep was pretty damned bad at the moment. He asked if I thought the Largactil was helping. I said I didn't know. He suggested it would be possible to up the dose a little. He went off to get his prescription pad, leaving me stuck in this tiny room, all by myself. As I have mentioned in previous post, there is something about those rooms that just triggers me off. Its windowless, rectangular...much like being in the back of a closed in truck container. He was gone a few minutes, and I was focussing on trying to calm my breathing, and stop my body shaking, so I didn't go into a full panic attack.

This is where it gets confusing, he comes back in, makes a joke about the airconditioning being to high (I'm not cold, douchebag, I'm trying to convince my body not to totally flip out on me) And then all of a sudden, he says, that he is going to write a letter to my GP letting him know I'm on the Serepax, but to start the process of weaning me off, oh, and just as an experiment, lets cease the largactil all together and see whether it has any affect on my sleeping. I was still concentrating so hard on not flipping out from the panic, that I just kind of half nodded at everything he said.

I walked out of the Centre, and realised what essentially had just happened. I tell him I am still having issues with panic attacks, and that sleeping is pretty bad (about 3 hrs average a night) and he a)starts weaning me off my anti-anxiety meds and b)ceases my sleeping medications.

WTF? I hate that place, I hate the system, I hate being just a number and I am really not a big fan of Baby Doc at the moment. Plus I am Scared as hell, of what these meds changes might mean, especially heading into a time as hard as xmas.

No comments:

Post a Comment