One of the main things that people who have bipolar disorder have to deal with, aside from the actual symptoms, is getting their medicine regime right. I’ve been working with a doctor since August 2013 and we are still tweaking things. I am told it can take up to 2 years (or possibly more) depending on the level of bipolar disorder that the patient has. I got a bit anxious and annoyed with the process and decided that I needed to seek another opinion.
I went to another doctor (well, Nurse Practitioner – if someone can explain the difference, that would be swell) yesterday and while she was easy to get along with, I felt that it still, after much deliberation, that she was not a good fit either. She was too laid back. She said that “We can try whatever you want” which at first sounded great. But then she was like “If you hear of a drug on the internet you think might work, we’ll try it out.” Um. Wait. So you are going to let me experiment on myself. You are the person who is went to medical school to learn these things.
While some might not see this as a big deal, it was a red flag to me. I also realize that I am currently in a pretty fragile state when it comes to accepting my disorder, and accepting the fact that medicine will be in my life forever.
I was feeling all types of pity for myself, and then I was watching a rerun of Grey’s Anatomy last night. It was one where the narrator was stating that we all have had days where we think it’s the worst. We spilled our coffee, we were late to work, we had to work through lunch, etc. But then, when something actually horrible happens, when a tragedy strikes (in the case of this episode it was three kids losing their parents and their grandmother in an accident) you wish for those little issues. You begin praying for your situation to be anything else than what it is.
It made me sit back and think for a moment. I know. Meredith Grey made me think. While this is extremely hard, painful, and feels impossible at times, I will get through it. It is nothing in the grand scheme of the world. I am lucky enough to have health insurance to cover these issues that I have. I am lucky enough to have a supportive husband. I am lucky enough to have a flexible job that when I can’t leave the house, I don’t have to.
My problems, although are still important, are my problems. The storm I am weathering will pass.
I know I am pushing the limits, but I have to.