Thursday, August 18, 2005

Shrunk, and Failure to Communicate

Got head-shrunk today. The update on my current weirdness, from today's pdoc visit: Sticking with the AD dose that was increased a week ago, since it seems to be doing its job, and adding a longer-acting benzo for the bizarro, no-logical-reason anxiety. It's prescribed for 3 times daily, but I really can't imagine needing that much. We'll see. Oh, and something to FORCE me to get some sleep, since that really is at the root of a lot of my nuttiness--the fact that I'm not sleeping. And on the lighter side...

On the way home from picking up my new meds, Alex driving:

Me: "Lookoutlookoutlookout! Doggieintheroad!"

Alex: "I see the dog. Calm down." (Yes, tell the anxiety-ridden person to "calm down." Much money could be saved on drugs and therapy with this radical and ingenius method--we must notify Tom Cruise. Surely the same treatment approach could be applied to all manner of affective disorders. Bipolar? Level out! Depressed? Snap out of it! Manic? Settle down! Schizophrenic? Knock it off, already!)

Me: "Look, if you don't want me to holler out about upcoming traffic hazards (he really does hate it, and I really can't seem to stop doing it), then you will have to spot them first, and announce to me that you are aware of the upcoming hazard and that I don't have to warn you. Like, 'I see the puppy in the road, and I will not hit it.' "

Alex: "OK, I got it." (Takes on "Cool Hand Luke" chain-gang accent) "Curve ahead, Boss."
"Stop sign, Boss."
"Slowing down, Boss."
"Turning left, Boss."

If I had been feeling better, I'd have played along with the proper responses, such as "Slow 'er on down..." but I just didn't feel up to it. But I'm sure now that he's had this burst of inspiration, I'll get another dozen or so chances before he tires of the gag. I ain't boiling any eggs, though, I can tell you that.

And just how crazy am I right now? A DHL truck just pulled up and left something on the porch, I have no idea what, and I'm not even going to look. Any of my family reading this is probably calling for the butterfly nets NOW. "Belinda is not opening, or even retrieving, a PACKAGE. Head for the hills!"

Sleep now, perchance to be rested when Bella gets home, and to add to the 2 lousy hours I got last night.

4 comments:

  1. Open the package, quick! The anxiety will finish you off, otherwise. You and your Daddy, too curious to ignore an unopened package. Go ahead, Honey. You'll feel sooooo much better.

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  2. Well, that gene has apparently been passed on to a THIRD generation. Alex finally went out about 10:00 PM and brought in the box. Bella totally flipped her lid. "Whatchoogot, Daddy? Whassat? Whasindere, whasindere, whasindere?" We could barely get it open before she went compeletely apoplectic on us. It was, excitingly, a replacement power cord for the laptop. Wheeee.

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  3. Darling, just a word of warning about the aforementioned DHL, here in the metrpolis of DFW they tend to swerve widly, cut you off, ride your bumper, and generally try and kill ALL drivers in their path. Nothing really to do with your blog just an FYI.

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  4. See, all the more reason to hide from them in your house!

    But dang, I think I will start sending all my stuff with them! A take-no-prisoners approach to package delivery...hmmmm.

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