Overwhelmed in 2020s

Looking back on all my years dealing with doctors, so many of them have been utterly worthless in helping me. Rhonda is a classic reminder of this. I sent her a message last night asking if she could prescribe lorazepam, and today I get a reply saying she’ll be out of the office until the 15th, so I should schedule an appointment to discuss it then.

Really? So I’m supposed to wait weeks or possibly even months to maybe get some help with my anxiety when I could really use a hand right now? That’s just fucking ridiculous.

Tom did some research, and we decided he’ll be my therapist over the weekend. If I don’t improve by next week, we’ll check out a place in town that offers a variety of therapists. It wouldn’t be virtual, but at least I’d be getting out and wouldn’t have to worry about tech issues. I am starting to feel some semblance of normalcy, but I don’t want to jump the gun.

Right now, I’ve got three main concerns: my medication dose, my nose and lungs, and my sleep apnea.

Breaking it down, I’m left to manage my medication dose on my own until I can get back with Galileo, who’s much more willing to work with me. As long as my weight stays down, I don’t think this is a 155-pound dose. I still have some lung tightness at times, so I’m not 100% sure the medication was the cause of me feeling so shitty. Usually, you need to lose 10% of your body weight before you start having issues. It’s strange that my heart rate didn’t go crazy, as that’s always been my problem when I’m over-medicated. Even my anxiety presented differently this time.

As for the lung tightness, maybe it’s tied to the nasal spray. The steroid spray might’ve messed up my lungs along with my nose. It’s just weird for it to happen after all this time. Tom thinks it was a gradual buildup and that increasing my nasal spray pushed it over the edge. I’m still worried about not being able to sleep with my stuffed-up nose, and if I could be allergic to this state. I hope to hell he’s right, though! I don’t know why, but it’s hard for me to breathe through my mouth, and when I do, I wake up with my throat and mouth all dry.

I’m also stressed about my sleep apnea, which still needs to be addressed. The problem is that it’s tough to get into specialists with all the waiting time. I’ve got so many issues that just can’t be resolved fast enough—if they can be resolved at all. I’m reluctant to try Inspire, but with my nose all stuffed up, neither a mouthguard nor a CPAP would help right now. We’ll definitely look into getting a custom mouthguard made soon. If that’s not an option, I might have to give the CPAP another try.

Last night, I managed to sleep nearly seven hours, but of course, it wasn’t without interruptions. Even my ear woke me up—lying on my bad ear made it sore, and I felt my TMJ acting up, too.

Tom donated blood today. I’m amazed he had the energy given how stressed out I was last night, trying to sleep. My whole body was literally trembling with adrenaline. Tonight, instead of taking Claritin, I’ll take Zyrtec closer to bedtime since it makes me drowsy and helps me sleep longer.

For now, I just hope Tom’s right when he confidently tells me my nose will get better—that it’s just swollen from the steroid spray and will heal soon. I wish I had his confidence! Why can’t I just believe him instead of going all Andy on him? Even if we’re wrong in the end, it would at least give me some comfort to believe things would work out until they didn’t.

My thoughts have been darker than ever, and this is by far the worst year since we moved here. I’ve always believed the number 4 is unlucky, and I’m practically counting down the minutes until this year ends.

I feel like I’ve really backslid with my anxiety, even though that wasn’t the worst problem this past week. Yes, my mood has been terrible, but my lungs and nose were the main culprits because they robbed me of sleep—and sleep deprivation never puts anyone in a good mood.